


Trusting In Your Betrayal

by REINDOWN



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Relationship(s), Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-09-07 16:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8808244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/REINDOWN/pseuds/REINDOWN
Summary: Hijikata had no idea when or even how it had begun. He just knew that it was happening. And it was annoying. No one at his barracks even questioned the presence of one silver-haired goon anymore.Gintoki did not know why his feet always took him to the same place. There was a cloud hanging over him that wouldn't pass on, a sense of self dissatisfaction that wasn't fading.Things become even more complicated when a criminal with a grudge decides peace for the both of them should be a thing of the past.





	1. Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> First work on here! I post on FanFiction and was recommended by several people to share my work here, too! This particular work was completed free-form, so I decided to go without a fully formed storyline for once and let my fingers do the typing. The plot formed itself and the knots started to tangle like headphones in your pocket. Without further ado, enjoy~

The first step in resolving your anime addiction is admitting that this won't be the last episode 

 

Hijikata had no idea when or even how it had begun, just that it was happening. And it was annoying.

A certain silver-haired bastard had taken to appearing in the Shinsengumi barracks on a weekly basis, sometimes even daily. It was at the point where no one even questioned it any more and Kondou often welcomed the Yorozuya with an invitation to drink with him.

“Why're we letting civilians into the barracks? Much less that sneaky bastard.” Hijikata had asked the first few times it had occurred.  
“We don't actually know how he's getting in...” Kondou drew his brows together in what appeared to be concern, but the sentiment subsided swiftly, replaced with a hearty grin that Hijikata had learned to attribute to the optimistic commander. “But he's helped us a lot in the past, no?”

After a while Hijikata had stopped chiding the commander for this obvious breach of security conducted by the most suspicious man in Kabuki district. He'd given his men a swift, to the point briefing (threat) not to let any civilians into the establishment without his prior agreement. Any perms ambling around the barracks were to be disposed of using force. Or else, seppuku.

“You should stop calling yourself the people's police and start calling yourselves the paperwork princes.” A familiar, irritating drawl sounded from Hijikata's side. He immediately dropped the pen in his hand and reached for his sword on the floor beside him, only to notice that it wasn't there. Hijikata span around on the tatami. With a smirk, Gintoki tossed the weapon from palm to palm, the heavy metal making a small clatter of indignation - much like its owner.

“Ya do realise that this is a crime? Enterin' private property. I should skewer you here n' now.”  
“Ahh, as expected of the demon vice-commander. But your brains aren't as sharp as your tongue since I'm holding all the cards here...” He gestured to the katana and smirked at Hijikata's deepening scowl. His eyebrows were drawn so low it was hard to distinguish them from his eyes and he appeared to be tilting precariously on the edge of violence.  
“What d'ya want?”  
“I was working in the neighbourhood and Okita-kun invited me in.”  
“That bastard.” Hijikata cursed under his breath, fumbling in his pocket for the cigarette he knew would be there to calm his throbbing nerves. Okita was fully aware that the yorozuya's appearance around the barracks sent his blood pressure through the roof and was using the guy as assured bait to wind up Hijikata as much as possible.  
“Well, anyway. I've done what I came to do. I've got to get off and read the rest of jump before Kagura uses it for Sadaharu's litter box.” You've done what you came to do? Hijikata thought, scathingly. So you came for the sole purpose of winding me up?  
“Cats use litter boxes, not dogs. Take the poor thing fer a damn walk.”  
“Sadaharu isn't a dog. Dogs are those things that follow their master to the end and let you use them as a foot rest and 100% believe you when you pretend to throw a stick and run after it like their balls are on fire. Sadaharu nearly chewed off my foot when I accidentally kicked him with my toe. That thing's just a monster.” Gintoki paused for a second before he chuckled to himself, making the demon commander feel uncharacteristically uneasy.  
“What?” He asked, not knowing if he really wanted to know what was going on in the bastard's head but asking anyway. Gintoki's footsteps stopped just before he escaped behind the sliding door, turning back once more with a slight grin playing on his face.  
“Naah, I was just thinking. Dogs and Mr. Vice-Commander aren't too dissimilar.”

He left Hijikata to ponder the meaning of this until the latter decided it was definitely an insult and the screaming insults chased Gintoki down the path towards the exit like the reverberations of angry thunder on a rainy day.

Speaking of which, it started to rain.

Hijikata huffed away the headache pinching in his forehead and returned reluctantly to the pile of work awaiting him. Gintoki had at least been right about one thing – he often had so much paperwork to do that he barely spent any time outside doing his actual job and his skin colour was fading to the same shade as the sheets he was filling out. Or not filling out, as it was currently. He couldn't concentrate now that he had been disturbed, silver hair floating around his brain like a ghost. A dirty ghost with a highly irritating grin.

Hijikata's initial problem was Gintoki's entire existence in the barracks, ambling around like the place was his own, leaving his scent hanging in the air like a territorial animal. Nowadays, his problem was the mess that was always left behind- the bokuto abandoned after a night's drinking with Kondou, his own missing weapon which the idiot had pilfered and the general remnants of a JUMP reading adult sized kid in every room. All of which Hijikata had to rectify the next morning, repeatedly making the furious march to his shop to either complain, return his shit or both. Mostly both. 

More than that, Hijikata had a problem with this anxiety building in the pit of his stomach. Would he come today? Was he here? He was always on the look out for the lackadaisical moron, fearing which prank would be pulled next. It was hard enough with one sadist hanging around, trying to blow him up. At least Hijikata's battle instincts saved him from Sougo. Nothing ever prepared him for the teasing that Gintoki conducted. He had begun to anticipate the yorozuya's arrivals to the point that he couldn't concentrate on what he was doing. He was so focussed on trying to find the bastard and skewer him that he'd desert his work and then regret it later that evening when he'd have to settle down to yet another all-nighter. And then, once the idiot had finally shown up, he'd spend the next hour trying to decode the useless junk that he had spewed out of his mouth and he wouldn't sleep.

“I'm a dog? 'Follow their master to the end' … I can't argue with that. Let 'emselves be used as a foot rest? What s'that even mean? Run after an imaginary stick like their balls are on fire? How does he even come up with these ideas? I'm a dog? … Ahh, fuck it. Tryin' to decode that idiot's nonsense is like tryin' to find all the dragon ballz in one episode.”

Just as he settled into the sheets of his bed to sleep, Hijikata heard footsteps of bare feet dash to his door. He rolled over and prepared to throw his katana, unsheathed, at whichever idiot decided to open the door at this time. His fingers poised over the weapon as a knock sounded, immediately followed by Yamazaki tumbling through the doorway.

“Commander! Okita's squad who were guarding the government official have been attacked!”  
“What?” Hijikata flung off his sheets and was grabbing his shirt before Yamazaki had even had chance to breathe.  
“It seems like it's Joui rebels. Katsura's there.”  
“Katsura? Finally, we can capture that bastard. Wake everyone up. Tonight we bring down Katsura.”

Hijikata entered the skirmish, katana blazing silver streaks through the air as he brought down rebel after rebel. He powered his way through the building, up to the second floor to where Okita was swinging a bazooka to topple anyone who tried to set foot up the stairs.  
“Don't fire, it's Hijika-AH!” He narrowly dodged an explosion to his right and cursed at the boy. “I said it's me!”  
“That's what a Joui rebel would say.”  
“Fuck you!”  
“The official is safe in another building. We're maintaining position to bring out Katsura.”  
“Good call. Most've 'em are finished downstairs. We'll head out and arrest as many as we can whilst keepin' an eye out.”  
“Hmm. Nice bed head, Hijikata-san.”  
“Shut the fuck up. Normal people would be sleeping at this time.”  
“One more thing, Hijikata-san.” Okita suddenly became serious (well, as serious as the bastard could get). “We had reports that Katsura was with someone.”  
“Like who?”  
“I don't know but he wiped out plenty of us when we tried to incarcerate him.”  
“How many?”  
“Enough for me to determine that he's a bit of a monster.” Hijikata raised an eyebrow. If Sougo was acknowledging him, he had to have some skill.

Regardless, the problem for here and now was getting that official to safety and finding Katsura before he vanished into the night. The combination of Sougo and Hijikata pummelling through rows of Joui soon made many of them turn tail and retreat. The Shinsengumi chased them out of the premises and down the streets of Kabuki, swatting them like flies. 

“These can't be the main troops.” Hijikata mused out loud. “They're far too weak.” A thought snapped into his head- one that he couldn't shake off. “Where did you say the official was?”  
“We moved him to the hotel across the road.”  
“Did you tell anyone this?” Sougo seemed to catch on quickly and narrowed his eyes.  
“You think someone heard and went after them?”  
“Only one way to find out.” Hijikata announced, turning tail at the exact same time as Okita back the way they came.

They arrived at where the hotel had been. Had being the apt word as it now looked like a bomb had ricocheted through it, which it probably had. Hijikata cursed and charged into the building still licked by dying embers, katana glinting through the settling dust cloud. He spotted a figure in the dust cloud, sword in hand. Immediately recognising that this guy was not part of the Shinsengumi from his attire, he charged, intending to pound the guy into the floor before he could even notice his existence. His plan didn't quite follow as he had imagined.

A wooden bokuto met his katana as it struck down, sending a jolt through Hijikata's body as his powerful strike was stopped completely. He tried to force against it, but the guy was ridiculously firm and wasn't budging an inch. Hijikata drew back and immediately lunged forward for an underhand slash. It was easily deflected. As the dust settled all around them, Hijikata swung once more for the man's body. He was shocked to find himself slicing through a piece of cloth falling through the air, and the shadow of a man appeared to his right.  
“Shit-!” He swore, trying to bring up his sword in time to parry the blow that would undoubtedly slice him in two. He closed his eyes, something he had never done before in combat but the idea of seeing his guts splash onto the floor (strangely) did not appeal to him. Instead though, he felt his sword scatter away from his grip and the stranger skipped round him towards the exit.

“S-Sougo! Get him!” Hijikata tried to regain his composure, still shocked that he wasn't currently in two pieces.  
“Understood!” Sougo called back. Hijikata watched as a blaze of red lit from across the room and then he narrowly dodged the resulting explosion.  
“NOT ME, YOU BASTARD!”

The rest of the night was spent cleaning up the mess that the Joui had caused. Thankfully, the squad members with the official had sensed trouble and immediately transported him back to the barracks before the explosion had occurred, but neither Katsura nor the mystery man who had spared Hijikata's life had been found. Hijikata couldn't help but think that it was someone he had fought before, but not having seen the perpetrator’s face in the conflict certainly didn't help identify him. The hanging cloud of debris in the air hadn't helped either. Hijikata swore that even now he could feel the remnants clinging to the back of his throat, though the fact that he had stressfully sucked through double the number of cigarettes since the incident probably had an effect.

Being back at the barracks in the early hours of the morning was hectic, as there were a dozen or so Joui being retained there temporarily, stacks of paperwork to complete, made worse by the screaming civilians demanding compensation for the destruction of their property.

“And you call yourselves the police?! You're just as bad as the Joui!”

The commotion was so bad that Hijikata decided to eat out when it came to dinner time. He told Kondou before making his way past the crowds of protesting idiots and down to the shopping district. And of course, he had to run into the damned Yorozuya. And as usual, he heard them before he saw them.

“Kagura, try to paint it all in the same direction or it won't look neat.” The glasses-boy chided, trying to coordinate the mess of a job they were doing.  
“A typical man's response.” The girl responded, tutting. “Men are stubborn and think in one direction. Gin-chan says it's because their friend down south makes all the decisions.”  
“Kagura, in future don't listen to Gin-san.”  
“Shinpachi, what do you class as down south? South Kabuki? South Japan? South of the earth with the ice? Does Gin-chan's brain only work when he's cold? Is that why he's simple?”  
“I don't really get what you're saying but yes, he's simple.”  
“Oi, oi, oi, don't call me simple. Gin-chan will be sad~” Hijikata raised his eyes to where the perm-head was stood, paint brush in hand, atop a set of ladders which Shinpachi was securing at ground level. He lowered his head to let his hair shade his face and tried to walk on past. Of course, no such luck. “Ah, Oogushi-kun!”  
“Tch.”  
“Did you just click your tongue at me? Is that how you police treat your tax payers? I pay your wage, you know. Give me more respect.”  
“You don't even pay your rent.” Shinpachi scolded him, performing a small bow in Hijikata's direction which he returned with a nod. “What are you doing out here, Hijikata-san?”  
“It's hectic over at the barracks so I came out for something to eat.”  
“Ahhh,” Gintoki mused, completely abandoning painting as he perched on the top rung precariously. Paint dripped from the brush in his hand onto the floor below, though he didn't take any notice. “I'd heard there was some incident with the Joui.”  
“Yeah, but they're the least of our worries. The Joui are quietly eating their rice in prison. It's the civilians that won't leave us alone.”  
“Looks like Kondou-san will be too busy to stalk sister for a while.” Shinpachi commented, looking slightly relieved about that.  
“Well.” Hijikata nodded goodbye as he set off walking again.  
“Ah, wait wait wait wait!” Metal clanged noisily as Gintoki clambered down the ladder and removed his apron. “You said you're going out for dinner? It's my break now.”  
“And?” Hijikata growled, hoping the idiot would get the message he was sending out from his brain in a tsunami of passive aggressive waves.  
“So I'll take you to a good place.” He grinned back. “Come on.”

Hijikata had no idea how he always managed to get caught up in Gintoki's flow, but once again he was flailing in an overwhelming torrent of madness and confusion that was the yorozuya. Something about the man made him impossible to refuse, even when you refused him. Hijikata sighed heavily. He cast a glance at the man, observing his lackadaisical composure, eyes wearing the same calm and conserved expression he always had. Hijikata had heard the cashier at a shop he frequented mention that it was a shame that Gintoki wore such an expression because he was in fact, quite handsome.

Observing now, Hijikata noticed that he didn't particularly have strong cheek bones, but he imagined he'd cut himself on that jawline. His eyes were an unusual shade too. Kind of red, kind of brown, swirling in this deep hue that Hijikata had never seen before. Women always liked a touch of the unusual and Gintoki certainly had attractive eyes … if it weren't for how he wore them. He had rarely seen the eyebrows of this moron meet. There was a permanent space settled between them that gave him a sort of 'vacant' expression, one which was difficult to figure out so you had to take it at face value. He looked kind of simple therefore Hijikata had learned to assume he was. Everything was easier if he did that.

Gintoki raised one hand and scratched his head, hair sliding through his paint speckled fingertips. It was then that Hijikata took the time to notice the tail end of a fresh wound poking out from under his shirt. It wasn't deep or particularly nasty looking, but it stood out a raw red against his green work polo. One eyebrow ticked upwards, curiously, until he noticed that the constant flow of shit coming out of Gintoki's mouth had paused. A stagnant silence hung between them and the vice-commander noticed that his stare was being returned.

“Have I got paint on me?”  
“Not unless the paint is red.” Hijikata gestured to the wound and Gintoki followed his eyes, squinting at his own skin. He pulled down the collar of his shirt for a better look.  
“Ahh, when did I do this, I wonder.” He mused, running one finger over the scab that was forming.  
“Don't touch it with your dirty fingers. You'll infect it.”  
“Yes, sir.” Gintoki let a smile play across his face. “Worried?”  
“Worried that you were up to something dodgy.” Hijikata retorted smoothly.  
“Hmm... kind of. I was dragged into something last night by an old friend of mine.” Hijikata raised an eyebrow and suspicion edged into his head. Suspicion was pretty much in his job description, after all. Wooden bokuto … a familiar fighting style …  
“What kind of thing?” He asked, trying to fade out the interrogative tone that was threatening to appear in his voice and instead coming across as completely unnatural.  
“Mmm... drinking contest?” Hijkata scoffed.  
“How d'you get injured from that?”  
“Ah really, Oogushi-kun. Have you never had a wild night out? Want Gin-san to show you sometime? You'll come back with blackened knees and a tic-tac-toe of claw marks across your back.”  
“What?”  
“Never mind.” Gintoki's teasing expression deepened as he held the door open for him and Hijikata felt like boiling him alive. Don't let him win. He chanted to himself, taking a deep breath. They made their way over to a table and began to sit down opposite from each other until Gintoki's expression changed. He paused mid-air, hovering over the seat as his eyes wandered elsewhere and an irritated scowl darkened his usual happy-go-lucky face. “Two minutes, Oogushi-kun. I feel the call of nature's rivers churning in my analogue stick.”  
“Don't call me that name. And stop bein' so disgusting.”

Gintoki loitered for a second at the entrance to the bathroom, glancing slightly over his shoulder as another man wearing a hood followed behind. He clicked his tongue and vanished along with him.

Immediately, Hijikata was suspicious. He was becoming fairly certain that it was Gintoki he had fought last night, which would explain the familiarity of their conflict and the reason he had escaped alive. What it did not explain was why the yorozuya was involved with the Joui and Katsura … Hijikata was certain that Gintoki held no notions of nationalism and terrorism – he could tell that from looking at his daft face. He was a simple individual, easy to figure out. Whatever was happening in that toilet now was linked to last night and therefore it was linked to Katsura. Despite his convictions that Gintoki had no intention of fighting the Shinsengumi, Hijikata decided that the perm headed idiot was in definite need of surveillance. He felt that following him would lead him to Katsura …

And maybe to unravelling that small part of him that felt like there was an incredible back story to Gintoki. A part of him that believed there was a whole other layer to Gintoki's personality that for the most part remained hidden. A darker section right in his core. Unexplored territory.

“You could have ordered.” Gintoki replied as he returned, sitting down. Hijikata eyed him carefully trying to read the mysterious man, then shrugged.  
“No one came to ask.”  
“Can I take your order?” A young woman chimed at Hijikata, smiling broadly. She had long, black hair tied high in a pony tail that swished at her hips.  
“Right on time.” Gintoki grinned.  
“You first.” Hijikata gestured, but Gintoki waved him off.  
“I already know what he wants.” The waitress replied. “What about yourself?” Hijikata was stunned for a second, before he ordered with a frown. Just before she left, Gintoki stopped her.  
“Yuki-chan~, don't forget!”  
“I know, extra strawberry sauce, right? You're going to get diabetes.” Gintoki immediately covered his ears.  
“Hear no evil!”  
“Seriously!” The girl rolled her eyes and then leaned over to Gintoki mouthing the words 'di-a-betes' playfully. She shook her head and then smiled one last time at Hijikata.

Once she had gone, Gintoki removed his palms from his ears and Hijikata cast him a scathing glare.  
“Flirtin' with high schoolers?”  
“What? No! Get your head out of the gutter, vice-commander of the Shinsengumi.” Gintoki looked appalled. He clicked his tongue and leant forward. “Listen here, pervert. Gin-san doesn't go after that sort of thing. I happened to work for her dad for a week and she made me strawberry parfait every day. She gives me discounts whenever I come now.”  
“Hmm.” Hijikata frowned. He watched the man carefully, still trying to read his mind. What had happened in that toilet? Did he meet with a Joui? Was he involved? His eyes snapped back to Gintoki's when he heard the latter sigh heavily.  
“Stop it.”  
“Stop what?”  
“Stop imagining stuff.”  
“I'm not imagining high school girls if that's what you mean. 'm not like you.” Hijikata cast him a glare and drummed his fingers on the table.  
“I don't mean that. I mean stop your over-thinking.” The lowered tone of his voice made Hijikata look up to meet the idiot's hardened eyes and with a start, he realised that he was serious. For once, the guy's eyes were watching him speculatively, commanding him with unsaid words. “Are you always this suspicious, Mr Demon Commander?”  
“It's my job.”  
“Innocent until proven guilty, you know?”  
“Affiliating with Joui rebels during the attack on a government official last night … I would call that guilty until proven otherwise.” The air between them hardened and the only give-away to what the perm-head was thinking was a small twitch of surprise in his eyes.  
“Then why haven't you arrested this guilty terrorist?” They maintained careful eye contact for longer than what was comfortable, each trying to decode the other's soul through his eyes. Hijikata was the one to break contact, slouching back into his seat casually.  
“Who knows?” He shrugged. Just in time, the waitress returned and laid out the dishes before them. Hijikata revealed a bottle of mayonnaise from his jacket and coated his meal in it until the point it was unrecognisable. He squirmed slightly, knowing that a pair of deep burgundy eyes were still held firmly on him. Those eyes continued to watch him silently as he began to eat, until seemingly he grew bored and set about devouring the sugar filled monstrosity before him.

The rest of their time in the café was made up of Gintoki spouting nonsense as usual, and Hijikata making the occasional scathing remark in response. Though Hijikata couldn't help but sink into deep thought about the yorozuya, despite the man's clear warning not to. He wondered about how he had experienced the war, whether he had any family and what type of person he was growing up. Observing his expression, there was absolutely nothing that gave him away. He was impossible to read yet so predictable. Hijikata had no idea what he was thinking beyond that ridiculously lax bag of shit he called a face, but despite that he was so easy to predict.

He'll probably make some stupid excuse now and leave without paying. He thought. On cue, Gintoki stretched lethargically and let out a gentle moan as his back clicked.  
“I guess I have to get back and make sure those two idiots haven't painted the entire town white.”  
“Wait.” Hijikata stood up at the same time and grasped the collar of the silver-haired man's shirt, glaring down at him with as threatening a gaze as he could muster.  
“What, miss me already?” The man teased, earning himself a punch in the gut.  
“Pay up.”  
“Surely I deserve compensation for the liver you just damaged.” Gintoki wheezed. He tried to slip from under Hijikata's grip but the latter was having none of it. He solidified his grip equal to that of a Jack Russell so that there was no chance in hell of the bastard slipping away. Gintoki sighed heavily. “Okay, okay, okay, calm down, Hijikata-kun~”  
“Why does everythin' that you say sound disgusting?”  
“Natural talent. Anyway, I don't have any money on me today-” The look on the commander's face spelled 'K-I-D-N-EY-S' pretty clearly and Gintoki had to stumble over his words to explain. “-but I'll settle a deal with you.”  
“Like what?”  
“You choose.” In normal circumstances, Hijikata would have taken the kidneys himself to settle the bill, but right now he had a few burning questions about the man in his grip. Questions he wanted answering. For the sake of paying for a parfait, it didn't seem like a bad trade off.  
“Alright, bastard-”  
“You have a lovely way with words, Oogushi-kun~”  
“The deal is you answer one of my questions truthfully and I pay for the parfait.” Gintoki looked bemused, but not surprised. He considered it seriously, tilting his head to one side like a dog. More like a wolf. Hijikata thought.  
“How will you know if I'm telling the truth?”  
“Would you stake your organs on me finding out you lied?”  
“You make a compelling argument, commander. Alright alright, deal. What's your burning question, Hijikata-kun? Want to know what colour underwear Gin-san wears? Or whether he prefers S or-YAK!”  
“Nothing like that.” Hijkata rubbed his knuckles gently as Gintoki recovered from the second punch to his liver. “Are you part of the Joui?” He asked, directly. Gintoki raised his eyebrows for a fraction of a second, before his face relaxed into a smile.  
“So direct. As expected of the demon commander.”  
“Answer the question already, idiot. Or do you want to pay for this parfait with your lungs?” Gintoki bit back the next smart remark which was already forming on his tongue and averted his gaze for a moment. When he looked back, he seemed decidedly more stern than before.  
“Are we talking about now? Currently?”  
“Yeah.”  
“No.” He said flatly. There was a silence as Hijikata waited for an explanation. After a few moments, it was evident that this was never going to come. One question had been the deal and one answer he had received. It seemed the man wasn't going to freely discuss his past with Hijikata, and something about that ticked him off. He clicked his tongue.  
“That's the truth?”  
“Solid truth.” Gintoki nodded. “And with that …” He slipped out of the iron grip on his clothes and sauntered to the exit, waving at Yuki-chan as he opened the door with one hand. “This old-man will be paying today. Bye-bye!”  
“Bye bye!” She called back, preparing the tab to take over to Hijikata. Gintoki looked back one last time at Hijikata and paused, expression completely blank and unreadable. Once again, Hijikata felt unreasonably uncomfortable and that pissed him off. He deepened his icy scowl towards the guy, which seemed to amuse the yorozuya because he cracked into a grin, one eyebrow raised mockingly.  
“Bye bye, Oogushi-kun~” He said, disappearing into the street. The waitress made her way over, a friendly smile painted onto her face.  
“Tch. Everything he says. So disgusting.” Hijikata mumbled, taking his wallet out of his pocket and preparing the cash.  
“That'll be 6603 yen.”  
“WHAT?!”  
“You'll be paying his tab, right? Everything he owes.”  
“ … YOROZUYAAAAAA!!!!”


	2. Smoking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know you smoked?

A man's addictions are dangerous but always optional, in short MADAO

Gintoki awoke with a JUMP magazine on his face, the pages fluttering with his breath. There was a loud racket thundering all around him, the sound of huge paws thudding across the wooden floor and the giggling of a young girl chasing after. The shouts of a worried megane pierced the air.

“Kagura! Please!”  
“Sadaharu~, put that down!” Kagura laughed and it was clear that she didn't care about whatever Sadaharu was carrying. “Down! Bad boy! I'll catch you, eheheh~”  
“OOII, KAGURA!” Shinpachi screeched in dismay. “Be serious!” He lowered his voice quickly to a stage whisper, the sounds of his light footsteps skidding after the chaotic duo. “If Gin-san finds out, he'll be mad!”

With this, Gintoki stirred regretfully. He wafted away the lethargy in his limbs with a stretch and sat up slowly, allowing the fuzzy world to settle into place before his eyes. It was not a very organised view. The table where he conducted his (lack of) work was on its back. JUMP magazines were strewn everywhere and even Gintoki's spare yukata were distributed across the room.

JUMP, safe. Ketsuno Ana's figurine and poster, safe. Secret stash of cash, safe. Now, what are those kids yelling about this time?

The footsteps drew closer and Sadaharu bounded through, as in directly through, the no-longer-closed-or-even-existing door. What are these idiots doing, eh? Are they taking up interior design? Gin-san doesn't like this abstract new door. It has a hole in, oi. Is it supposed to be modern? Western design?

It was then that he noticed what was in Sadaharu's mouth, just as it enclosed around his face.

“WAHH! GIN-SAN!!” Shinpachi struggled to remove the beast's jaws from where they were clamped around the yorozuya master's head. Gintoki squirmed, complaining about something to do with bad breath in a muffled scream.  
“Sadaharu, don't eat that. Your fur will go all curly.” Kagura chided and the dog immediately let go, tail wagging. Shinpachi lent a hand in clearing the saliva (and blood) from Gintoki's face.  
“What a disgusting bastard.” He stood and ruffled his hands through his hair. “Now. Give me that, Sadaharu.”

The dog glanced at him, huffing excitedly so that Gintoki scrunched up his nose to avoid the stench.  
“Jesus, Kagura. What do you feed this animal?”  
“Strawberry mi-”  
“UAH!” Shinpachi flailed to cover Kagura's mouth before she uttered the dreaded truth. There was no need, however, as Gintoki's concentration had been diverted to the saliva painted object which had dropped out of the dog's mouth.  
“Ahh, so you do have it.” Gintoki picked the scarf up gingerly between two fingers, running his eyes up and down the red material in search for any new tears or pulls.  
“Sorry, Gin-san. I moved it whilst cleaning and Sadaharu got hold of it.”  
“What are you apologising for, Pattsan? It's only a scarf.” Gintoki rolled it around his fist into a ball, kicking the table on the floor back onto all four legs with one foot so he could lay the material down.  
“Well, it seemed important to you. You wouldn't let me wash it and you kept it in your room.”  
“That's because Hijikata left it once when he came. There's no way I'm returning it all clean and fresh smelling like some high school girl with a crush.”  
“Ah, really? I guess we'll definitely have to wash it now.”  
“No, actually. This is perfect.” The silver-haired man let a small smile lift his lips.

He picked up the scarf once more and left, the smile fading slightly. He felt disappointed. He didn't want to return the scarf. Whatever control he felt from owning the piece of material would vanish, along with that enticing smell.

Shit, what am I admitting to here? Am I some 40 year old virgin? Sure, the damn scarf smells nice. I don't even smoke, but somehow... shit. What am I doing?

A sigh of dissatisfaction slipped through his lips as he descended the steps outside the yorozuya shop. His brain had been really strange lately. Well, it had always been but this was different. One certain demon commander would not leave his mind. Initially, he had blamed the idea of teasing the idiot as being too tempting to pass up on, but more and more his feet were finding themselves outside the barracks without really thinking. Even when he was down. Especially when he was down. Which was occurring more and more frequently.

There was a cloud hanging over him that wouldn't slip away, a sense of self dissatisfaction that wouldn't fade, a crying wolf that wouldn't be silenced. He wondered if he was depressed. He had been depressed before, for sure, but there was always an underlying cause. This time, he just couldn't seem to pinpoint a reason. In the past, that incident had haunted him day and night with a pain that never seemed to lift. It was only when he'd met Kagura and Shinpachi that he'd been able to forget about -

Shit. That was another face that wouldn't stop haunting him. It was a face whom had never really disappeared, always lingering like a dark fog just behind his vision. The one person he had sworn to protect, even throwing himself into an entire war to do so. The person who had granted himself a tiny glimpse at what he imagined a family would feel like. And then he had killed him with his own hands.

Jesus. This wasn't like him.

Gintoki felt like he was slipping further into himself, drowning in his own thoughts, pulled down by vicious, relentless fists with nothing to hold him up, the dense water of torturous memories a great unmoving pressure above him and the deep expanse of uneasy nothingness below.

“I can't go back like this.” He decided, changing direction suddenly in the street so that he was no longer heading for the barracks. He glanced at the scarf in his hand for a moment and sighed. He wasn't even in the mood to tease the vice-commander any more. And, there was no way he could return to those two when his thoughts were this dark. They deserved smiles and constant laughter. He wouldn't show them this side of a battered and lost samurai soul.

…

“Danna has changed direction. It doesn't seem like he's going to return your scarf.” Yamazaki removed the binoculars from his eyes, revealing two black rings. Sougo's doing, no doubt, since they originally belonged to Hijikata.  
“Bastard. Since when did he have that anyway? Doesn't he have any decency?” Hijikata furiously lit up another cigarette and took a deep, long drag to calm himself. Yamazaki peeked through the binoculars once more from the building just down the street from the yorozuya's shop that they were now using to spy on the possible Joui affiliate. He paused the pen in his hand and pursed his lips.  
“It might just be me but … don't you think danna's acting strange?”  
“Strange how?” Hijikata squinted down the street but the guy was too far away now to see anything more than a head of silver hair bobbing. “Gimme.” He snatched the binoculars, forgetting about the line of black polish across the rim of the eye piece.  
“Well, it's just how he walks … like, he's usually so casual-”  
“- Lazy.”  
“- and he talks to people-”  
“- Flirts with women.”  
“- and then he just always seems happy.”  
“Annoying.” Hijikata grunted, but his words halted in his throat. Their target had been walking, scarf in hand in the direction of the Shinsengumi barracks, however seconds ago he had turned on his heel to head back the way he came. Yet it soon became clear that he wasn't returning to the shop. Now that he was looking through a magnified lens, Hijikata could see the expression on Gintoki's face up close. 

One which he couldn't take his eyes off.

It was so completely different from this morning. His shoulders hung loosely, footsteps shuffled with no real sense of intent in their direction and his eyes were downcast. They swirled with a deep hue and didn't really seem to focus on anything. He was clearly in deep, deep thought. For a second, Hijikata wondered if this was the core of the man he was missing, the bit he didn't know about. The man he was when there were no kids to care for and no eyes watching him. Something sank in the pit of Hijikata's stomach. There was something there. Something that Gintoki didn't want anybody to see crawling behind the façade of your less than average idiot.

“We're going to lose sight of him. Shall we tail him, sir?”  
“Obviously. Let's go.”

Which was the intention. However, once they had left the building and headed after Gintoki, the man was nowhere to be found.

… 

Gintoki returned later that evening, the sun melting over the horizon casting distorted and faded shadows on the floor of the yorozuya apartment. The scarf was still wrapped between his fingertips lazily as he slipped off his boots and shuffled into the main room where Kagura was sat on her own plaiting Sadaharu's fur. Gintoki relaxed his expression.

“Oh, you're back, Gin-chan.”  
“Yeah. Where's Shinpachi?”  
“Just left. He did wait for you but said something about boss lady making a start on dinner if he didn't get back soon.” Gintoki shivered at the thought. He threw the scarf onto his desk to deal with another day and passed where Kagura was perched on the floor to head to his room. As he did so, Kagura sniffed lightly and wrinkled her nose. Her hand reached out to grab Gintoki's ankles to stop him. He looked down at her, surprised.  
“You smell like tobacco.”  
“Yeah, I came across that demon commander while I was out. He reeked of it.” Kagura sniffed again and shot him a stern glare.  
“Liar. You still have the scarf.” She stood up and straightened her spine to try and reach his eye level, a small pout appearing on her lips. Gintoki watched her carefully, wondering where to go next.  
“Decided it would be more fun to hold onto it for a while.” He shrugged, attempting once more to escape into his room. Nose like a bloodhound, damn it. Kagura wouldn't let him past with a grip of steel. She lent into his collar and sniffed once more, her face even more upset when she leaned back.  
“Liar.” Her eyes were filled with hurt and she quickly turned to leave the room, gesturing Sadaharu to follow.  
“Oi, Kagu-” SLAM.  
“Ahh, jeez.” Gintoki scratched his head, beginning to pace backwards and forwards. After a few moments painful deliberation, he decided to go out after her. It was getting dark.

Street lights began to flicker on, bringing sudden bursts of white light into darkened alleyways, shadows stretching across the street like bony fingers. Gintoki called out Kagura's name once or twice, but he didn't expect her to reply anyway. He was sure that she wasn't in the least phased by him having one or two cigarettes, it was the fact that he'd tried to cover it up with his nonsense lies. He felt stupid for considering even for a second that she wouldn't notice. She wasn't exactly human, after all. Even by Yato standards, she was an odd one. He wondered if she had gone to Otae's and if he'd be getting an earful from that gorilla woman the next morning. The thought made the bones in his knees clack against each other. What a scary woman.

“Ah, he's there!” A voice far down the street exclaimed and Gintoki raised his eyes for a moment, almost expecting Kagura to be stood there shaking her head in disapproval.  
“Yorozuya!” His eyes shot over to the source of the noise. A familiar head of dark hair half-jogged over to him.  
“What do you want? Jesus, seeing you this many times in a day. My luck really is shit.”  
“Rude!”  
“Commander,” Yamazaki caught up and whispered loudly. “We can't tell him we were tailing him!”  
“SHUSH, IDIOT! Did you swap your brain with anpan?”  
“Well, anyway. I don't care what you tax stealing stalkers do with your spare time but I'm busy. Have you seen Kagura?”  
“Your kid? You lost her?” Hijikata's tone instantly changed to one of curiosity. Gintoki's hand was in his hair again. Hijikata noticed that his usually messy hair was even more bush-like, like he'd ran his hands through it over and over. Maybe this was serious. He remembered the man's downcast mannerisms from earlier in the day and wondered if they had fought.  
“If you've not seen her then it doesn't matter. Anyway, unlike some, I have work to do.”  
“Wait. Has something happened?”  
“Nothing of importance.” Once again, the samurai slipped away into the darkness.  
“He's a mysterious fellow, danna.” Yamazaki hummed.  
“Hn.”

… 

Gintoki ventured home at around midnight having not seen a glimpse of Kagura. He didn't dare go over to Otae's but upon returning home, the message on the answering machine at least confirmed his suspicions.  
“YOU WORTHLESS MAN, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO SWEET KAGURA? I'LL TEAR YOUR LIMBS OFF AND STICK THEM UP YOUR -” Gintoki winced and silenced the device. He stared silently at his empty apartment, a sense of loneliness overwhelming him in the echoing room. With a sigh, he heeded to the calls of the shower and spent a good half hour cleansing himself of the smell of cigarettes. The stench didn't seem to go. He let the hot water of the shower run past his lips, before spitting it down the drain. The craving he'd had turned out not to be one to smoke, as even when he had indulged himself through a whole packet he didn't feel satisfied in the least. He had realised that what he needed wasn't to smoke, but that didn't help solve the issue of what he did need.

The next morning, Kagura still hadn't returned and the only visitor Gintoki had was a disgruntled Shinpachi, who, by the look of his face, knew exactly what had happened.  
“I don't know what's wrong with you but lying to Kagura won't solve anything.” He said, avoiding eye contact as much as possible as he hurriedly completed the chores and picked up the sheet on Gintoki's table for information of their next job. “Me and Kagura can finish that painting job by ourselves. Take the day off to sort yourself out, Gin-san.” Shinpachi felt his stomach twist when he didn't receive a usual sarcastic response from the perm-headed man. Instead, there was just pensive silence as he stared across the room. Shinpachi noticed the heavy black marks beneath Gin's eyes and the slouch in his posture. He considered yielding from his angry exterior to ask what was wrong, but decided against it. The way Gin was at the moment, he doubted he'd get an honest response.

Though really, Shinpachi wondered if he had ever received a straight, honest response from Sakata Gintoki.

…

“Heard you've been tailing the Yorozuya's danna, Hijikata-san.” Okita Sougo said between mouthfuls, reaching over to grab the dish of wasabi from across the table.  
“He was there that night the Joui attacked the government official. The one you let slip away because you were too busy firing at me.”  
“I figured he was on our side since you let him past so easily.” Hijikata spluttered on his mayonnaise and pointed an accusing chopstick at the brat. Before they could launch into their usual bout of insults, Kondo Isao lowered his tray onto the table beside Sougo, opposite Hijikata and threw the company a wide beam.  
“Good work today Sougo, Tosshi.”  
“Back from stalking the ape woman?”  
“I was making sure she was eating properly.”  
“And once you finished watching her eat did you enjoy stalking her?” Okita was relentless with his mocking.  
“I wasn't stalking her! Anyway, the yorozuya were there so I was kicked out by the girl with the buns.”  
“Yorozuya?” Hijikata frowned, having seen the man walking the streets just hours before midnight on his own.  
“Well, Sakata-san wasn't there. It seems he's a sore topic at the moment though. The girl kicked me out when I asked where he was.”  
“Hmm?” Okita seemed curious, though this was likely as he was storing the information for sadistic purposes, Hijikata thought.  
“Well, it's not unlikely that he made some crude joke that upset the girl.” Kondou shrugged, settling into his breakfast. Hijikata allowed himself a few more seconds deliberation on the issue, wondering if the expression he had seen on the silver samurai's face could actually be that simple. A family dispute? Eventually, he cast the thought out of his mind and took a bite out of his morning meal.

A meal that was covered in wasabi, as it turned out.

“SOOUUUGOOOO---!”

…

Gintoki found himself inside the Shinsengumi barracks once more, uninvited. Yes, he probably had a death wish because if the vice commander found out, he'd be sliced up into more pieces than there were bones in his body. But then again, if you were talking relaxation, then Gintoki found nothing better than teasing a certain dark haired demon until the guy turned blue in the face. It was becoming a hobby.

As such, he was outside said commander's room before he knew it, feet on autopilot until they took him to where he knew he'd end up. Taking a moment to listen to the morning breeze whistle through the open sliding door, Gintoki felt rather than saw the presence of someone inside. With great stealth, he popped his head around the corner for a peak and then back again before he was seen. Hijikata was in his usual place in the centre of the room, sat at a low desk with books spread across the surface rather than the usual paperwork. Gintoki shifted so he could see around the door without being at risk of the demon's eyes landing on him. It seemed like he was reading old Shinsengumi reports, along with newspapers and a few handwritten scrolls of paper. Time slid by and he could no longer move, fixed to the spot, fully amused by simply watching the commander work. The way he chewed on his lip when he was in deep thought, squinting at pages as though they were written in a foreign language with a lowered brow. Even how he turned the pages with difficulty, struggling to flick through the books and the grunts he made when he lost the page he was holding. Then the way he shuffled occasionally to bring the blood back into his feet. Whatever he was doing, he was completely fixated on it. He had entered his own world where not even the creak of Gintoki's feet on the floor as he shifted his weight slightly could penetrate his concentration. Hijikata mumbled words to himself like they would order themselves into something that would make sense to him if only he said them out loud.

“Shiroyasha?” He paused on one particular page. Gintoki started, body jolting involuntarily as his spine tingled at the name. He decided it time to intervene.  
“Hijikata-kuuuun~” Gintoki slid the door open, rolling the name on his tongue as the said man rushed to close the books he was reading. “Eh? How suspicious. Is it porn? Don't be stingy, let me see.”  
“You're disgusting! Why are you here? You're intruding! Get out! Knock before you come in!” A string of complaints flew out of Hijikata's lips as the subject of his studies appeared before him.  
“Come in? Get out? Which is it? I came to return this.” Gintoki threw the infamous scarf so that it folded itself across the vice-commander's face.  
“It reeks!” He cursed, rubbing his face in horror.  
“Sadaharu liked the look of it.” By this time, Gintoki had stalked his way behind Hijikata, which did not please the latter in the least. He span round and glared up at the man, meeting his mocking irises with his own. “What are you working so hard on, Vice-Commander?”  
“Your suspicious past.” He replied so bluntly that Gintoki actually lost his impartial demeanour for a second. Just for a second though.  
“Want Gin-san to tell you?”  
“No. If you do that, I'll somehow feel like I have lost.” As Hijikata span round to his work again with a sigh, Gintoki slid down next to him and watched him flick through different sources. They could feel warmth radiating within the small space between each of their shoulders, touching them lightly. “Heard you upset the China girl?” Hijikata said; Gintoki's figure next to him tensed.  
“Might have.”  
“What d'you do?”  
“Tried to get rid of a feeling I couldn't understand.”  
“Huh? Don't talk in riddles.”  
“Gin-san's being serious.” As he said this, he raised one hand and Hijikata immediately watched his movements carefully. He let out a surprised grunt as the hand slipped under his jacket, rifling around in one of his pockets.  
“Hell d'ya think you're doing, bastard?” Hijikata didn't move to stop him as Gintoki removed his pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The yorozuya sat the two objects in front of him and flicked open both lids, removing one cigarette and lifting the lighter into his other hand. Hijikata eyed him, curiosity tapping at his nerves. The familiar smell of smoke curled into his nose as the man lit and softly sucked on the end of a cigarette as though he was tasting something sweet.  
“Didn't know you smoked?”  
“I don't.”

They sat there in silence as the man blew out clouds of whirling chemicals which enticed Hijikata to light up one of his own. He restrained, purely because he was more interested in observing the strange species beside him for the moment. Eventually, Gintoki cursed under his breath and crushed the butt into an ash tray. He coughed and curled his lip in disgust.  
“These won't do it either.” He muttered, irritated.  
“You some kind of recovering drug addict?”  
“Not quite. I'm trying to figure out why I can't get the smell of tobacco out of my little brain.” 

As slow as the sun settled behind a cloud and cast the room into a dull light, Hijikata turned his head to meet Gintoki's hard gaze. He was captured by the red eyes in front of him and found that he couldn't look away. No. It wasn't that he couldn't, he didn't want to. And for every second he spent lost in those eyes like a rabbit in front of headlights, he was less and less able to move as though he had melted into the floor. The man was inches away from his nose, returning his stare with mysterious, undulating eyes. Hijikata's lips parted to taste the smoke in the air between them. It was strange to be able to smell it from someone else, rather than himself. It wasn't pure. It tasted second-hand, mingled with Gintoki's own scent which was distinctly musky. Earthy. The distance between them felt like it was getting smaller, but never small enough.

It was Gintoki that first broke the stare, looking away with a tinge of rose brushing his cheeks - something Hijikata had never seen before.

“You should stop it with that face.” He stumbled over his words, drawing away to scratch the back of his neck. He stood up and refused to meet Hijikata's confused, watchful eyes. “You're more seductive than you think.”

This shattered Hijikata's brain in an instant and the capacity to think evaded him. But of course, the bastard played the comment off like water across his back, casting a few half-hearted insults over his shoulder as he stumbled for the door as casually as possible. He disappeared with a quick, 'don't let the taxpayers bite' and Hijikata could only watch him go.

He definitely didn't miss the nervous sheen of sweat that had coated Gintoki's forehead. Nor his exaggerated laughter. 

Hijikata leaned forwards and softly tapped his head against the table again and again and again ….

Damn yorozuya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't smoke guys. It's bad for you.


	3. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oi, Yorozuya. Can you hear me?

It's not a FanFic without shipping angst

 

“Hijikata-san! Vice-commander! It's urgent! An amanto syndicate has taken over the shopping centre!”  
“What?!”  
“They managed to hold some of the citizens inside. They’re making demands!”  
“Tch.” Hijikata cursed, pulling on his uniform jacket and fixing his sword to his hip where it always sat like an extra limb. “Ransom, eh? Give me the details on the move. Let's go.”

Arriving outside the cordoned off shopping centre was like entering the gates to hell, or what Hijikata imagined the gates of hell to look like. There was screaming, wailing and general confusion as civilians swarmed around the scene and basically got in the way.  
“My son is in there!”  
“Can't you do something?”  
“It's been an hour! Why haven't you rescued my aunt?!”  
With the arrival of the vice-commander of the Shinsengumi, the racket only escalated a few hundred decibels, grating in his ears like the sounds of wasps. He was patient for under thirty seconds, biting his tongue and trying to calmly push the jittering crowd aside so he could get to work, but then his fuse snapped.  
“Get out of the FUCKING WAY.” He cursed, hand flexing over his katana, itching to use it to sweep the bastards aside and part them like the red sea. The crowd immediately descended into soft wailing and angry glares, but no one got in his way any longer. His menace was infamous, after all.

“There's at least 100 civis in there,” Okita began reeling off the facts before Hijikata could even ask. It was a serious situation with lives at stake, so even Okita wasn't one to waste time and joke around. “How about we just bazooka the entire place?” Hijikata retracted this thought immediately. “Well, they said if there's no response, they're going to push one off at a time starting from 16:00.” Okita gestured to the roof of the three floor building with long glass panels and futuristic twisting turrets, courtesy of the aliens themselves. There was a single door on the top of the building for maintenance and repairs that led onto the rooftop. No doubt this was where they planned to begin the mass killing of innocent people.  
“What time is it?”  
“15:47.”  
“Their demands?”  
“Didn't ask. Since we won't be abiding by them anyway. Ne, Hijikata-san?”  
“Damn right,” He grunted in reply, beginning to walk to his left to scour the rest of the building. “But at least we'd know their motives.”  
“Yamazaki did some investigation and it seems that we arrested some of their commanders not long ago. They're now on death row.”  
“Hmm. S'that so? Do we have a visual?”  
“We hacked into the indoor CCTV, though I don't think they tried particularly hard to stop us.”  
“Lemme see.” Okita gestured and one of the members following him rushed across to grab the device from one of the vans they had brought. Hijikata took it and flicked through the images. It looked like they had all the citizens enclosed within one of the shops with guards throughout. Looking through the images, the majority of the rest of the place was empty, save for the occasional lackey keeping watch with one finger in their nostril. In total, he guessed there were 30 of the thugs. He flipped back to the main image of citizens and decided Okita's original figure was not far off.

“We outnumber them easily, the problem is getting-” The words caught in his throat as he scoured the hazy images flinching across the screen and saw a familiar face amongst the restrained citizens. A further glance showed two familiar faces, expressions fierce amongst the crowd of scared, terrified people. Okita raised a curious eyebrow and leaned across to check out what had made the vice-commander stop mid-speech. “Where's Kondou-san?” He asked.  
“Out of town with Matsudaira. He won't be coming today.”  
“Good. If he knew the Shimura siblings were there, the situation would get much worse.”

Time crawled by with every second of preparation and diligent surveillance they conducted and each time the clock ticked, the deadline raced closer. What they needed was someone to work from the inside so that they could wreak havoc without paying mind to the threat to the hostages. At 15:53, Hijikata made a decision that had been playing on his mind. His gut was telling him something and he rang a number he never thought he would to settle that uneasy churning.

“Yorozuya-dearu. What do you want?”  
“Is Gintoki there?” Hijikata was impatient and the laid-back kid on the end of the line wasn't helping the bomb threatening to explode in his head. He felt a headache coming on already.  
“Gin-chan? He left a few minutes ago in a hurry.”  
“Why?”  
“Dunno.” The definition of pulling teeth, just like the owner of that damn place. Hijikata took a deep breath. They didn't have time for this.  
“What was he doing before he left?”  
“Same thing he always does,” she drawled and Hijikata could practically see her picking her nose like the bastard guardian she had adopted. “Lazy about avoiding work. Watching the weather woman on TV.”  
“Watching TV?” Hijikata removed the receiver from his ear and shouted to any one of the police around him. “Have we kept this from the media?”  
“No, we couldn't,” came one response.  
“They already released an emergency announcement a few minutes ago.”

He knows. The yorozuya was no doubt on his way here now.

“Does that bastard have a mobile?”  
“Ehh? We can't even afford to pay for more sukonbu over here and you think we are living lavishly with such luxuries as that?!”  
“What about Shinpachi?”  
“Shin-chan? No?”  
“Shimura, ah, Otae?”  
“Anegyo? Who knows. What's going on, mayo? Need someone to bail you out of jail? Too bad we don't have money for that either.”  
“Jail, what are you- I am the police, brat!”  
“Ah, well, Gin-chan doesn't have a phone but you will probably find him in the nearest pachinko parlour like the jobless bum he is.”  
“Jesus, I don't have time for this-”  
“Or,” Kagura began, a new tone seeping into her voice that led Hijikata to press the speaker closer to his ear. “If it's really urgent, if you call his name he'll come.”  
“What nonsense are you spouting, kid.” He sighed, heavily, checking his watch. 15:56.  
“It's a power all shonen JUMP heroes have. Anyway, unlike some tax robbers, I have things to do. Bye, mayora!”

The phone beeped gently over the sound of Hijikata's irritated swearing as she hung up on him.

“Call his name and he'll come? Jesus, all that and I've gotten nowhere. What a waste of time.” At least he'd learned one thing worthwhile. The yorozuya was on his way. That would either complicate everything into a situation ten times its size, or the silver samurai would provide a vital, unstoppable force in freeing the hostages. There was no in-between with that moron.

Shiroyasha. Hijikata let his thoughts stray for a second. Somehow the name would suit him.

All of a sudden, the volume of gasps and screams escalated and Hijikata knew his time had run out. Not just his either, but the time for the poor woman being pushed out of the rooftop door at gunpoint.

“Vice-commander!”  
“I KNOW!” He yelled back, heart beginning to pound adrenaline through his veins. What could he do? What should he do? The man holding the gun was joined by another amanto with a yellowed face and small horn-like protrusions on his forehead. This one carried a megaphone device.  
“SEND IN THE COMMANDER OF THE SHINSENGUMI THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR, UNARMED AND ALONE. IF NOT, WE BEGIN TO DROP THEM UNTIL YOU DO.”  
“How about it, Hijikata-san?” Okita nudged him in the side with a sharp elbow. “Go valiantly to your death and I'll take over from here.”

What would Kondou-san do?

“I'm going in.” He declared, beginning to make his way to the front door, sword still attached firmly to his hip. Okita's eyes twinkled in unrestrained delight.  
“Are you giving in to their demands?”  
“Of course not, idiot. I'm going to take as many down as I can and clear a pathway for you guys.”  
“What if they drop the woman?”  
“Then that's one woman for 99 other citizens.” Hijikata's fingers brushed over the grip of his katana, blood rushing through his veins, the beast inside him screaming for battle. He knew this was definitely not what Kondou-san would do. But he wasn't Kondou Isao and he never would be.  
“Wait!” Someone called, desperately, running over with the earlier CCTV device in their hand. “There's a disturbance inside!”  
“What? Show me.”

Sure enough, all attention inside the shopping centre had turned inwards. The guards were on high alert, stalking collectively back towards the centre of the commotion with radios pressed against their ears. Flicking images, more of the disturbance was shown as civilians scattered away from the scene. The rebels ran towards one location, guns grasped tightly, which Hijikata didn't have the footage for. Looking at the hostages once more in desperation to see what was going on, he saw a smile appear on Shinpachi's face as he stood up. Next to him, Otae muttered something in shock.

Gin-san?

“ALL TROOPS. WE'RE HEADING IN!” Hijikata commanded. Okita immediately lifted his bazooka and pointed it to the rooftop where the two men were distracted by their radios. Everything had dissolved into confusion very quickly, even for the criminals. In a second, a carefully aimed missile plucked the two from their perch and sent them spiralling for the concrete floor below.   
“One hundred and eighty~” Okita smirked, waiting until the now-free woman had scampered back to safety. He then joined the force of men sprinting towards their battlefield.

Gun shots ricocheted, punctuating the roar of voices and the clattering of swords. Each one made Hijikata flinch, because fighting with swords was one thing. Fighting with guns … for some, that meant certain death. Regardless of your skill. Bullets were indiscriminate and harder to dodge. You just had to pray you spotted them before the barrel was pointed in your direction. The conflict didn't last long though. Two, scratch that, three of the greatest swordsmen in all of Japan were there after all. Well, Hijikata assumed the yorozuya was there. Who else would be able to sneak into a fully locked down shopping centre and cause so much havoc? The Shinsengumi had secured the safety of all 100 civilians and detained all but 5 of the criminals. Two had died and three had escaped in the brawl. There were troops stationed outside waiting for them to run for it so Hijikata left it up to them. He found who he was looking for in a few minutes.

“Hijikata-san!” Shinpachi ran over, his face twisted with concern. “Have you seen Gin-san?”  
“Huh? No? Wasn't he with you?”  
“He got into a fight with some of the leaders and disappeared. We haven't seen him since.”  
“Which way?” He asked, already striding away from the shop. Shinpachi pointed down one of the empty shop lanes and Hijikata followed the littering of blood spatters on the floor, suddenly on his guard again. Now, he wasn't so sure he'd secured all of the amanto. His nerves were on edge and the sword in his grip clattered occasionally, too loud, too loud. As he strayed further from the commotion, further down the emptied shopping lanes, the eeriness only grew.

The shops were all open and lit, void of life as though something had come along and sucked up anything with a beating heart. All that remained were the buzzing fans, the sliding doors which gave him a heart attack each time he set off their sensors and those ominous splatters of blood pooling on the floor. Further down the lane, a body laid motionless. Hijikata jogged up to it and kicked the body of an amanto to check it was unconscious. Not a grunt sounded. He continued, eyeing the smudge of red across the floor where it looked like someone had been dragged. The fight mapped out in his head, faces unknown but actions clear from the patterns of destruction that had been left behind. One smashed shop window with fresh, dripping blood across the remaining shards. Someone had been thrown through this glass. Footsteps littered the floor in a concoction of blood and mud. He passed another body, this one likely to be dead or close to it- the crimson halo around its head was evidence enough to show that.

Finally, he knew he was reaching the end as he saw a staircase spiralling downwards to the ground floor in the middle of the lane and a ring of shops encircling it. It was at this point that Hijikata froze. He could hear panting, someone wheezing for breath as though there was a choke hold on their throat. Moving forwards with his heart thudding in his mouth, he strained his hearing. He reached the top of the staircase and prepared his sword.

A familiar patterned kimono splayed out under a fallen warrior. The white material for the most part was dyed a new colour. Collapsed halfway down the staircase laid the heaving body of Sakata Gintoki, a crimson flower blooming across his chest.

“Uk-!” The breath caught in Hijikata's throat and before he knew it, he had leapt down the stairs hastily, kneeling beside the samurai. “Yorozuya? Can you hear me?” His words were frantic, panicked. The man didn't turn his head. Gintoki didn't even seem to acknowledge his presence. His eyes were open but hazy, unfocused. His breathing halted, then restarted faster than before, choking on the blood in his mouth as his fingertips curled in pain. Hijikata took out the radio in his pocket and bellowed out commands, stammering over his words.  
“M-medic! Section E stairwell. Hurry up!”

A voice crackled over the speaker in response, but Hijikata ignored it and set about halting the blood flow from the bullet wound oozing crimson over Gintoki's right lung. The rest of the blood appeared to be someone else's. He'd fought well, taken down the enemies one by one but one damn bullet - …

“Oi, yorozuya. Can you hear me?” He continued talking to the man convulsing beneath his fingers, trying frantically to ignore each time the man's breathing choked and stopped. Hijikata swallowed the sickness swirling in his stomach and took a breath to calm his shaking hands. “Yorozuya!”  
“Hkk-” With a start, Hijikata realised that Gintoki had tried to force words out of his narrow windpipe. The man tried again, gasping desperately for air. “Hij- … kata.” Good, he was conscious enough to recognise him.  
“That's enough, that's enough. Listen to me. There's a m-medic on the way. Stay awake until then. Stay awake. You have kids waiting for you. And other people. A-and. S-stay awake, f-for now.” A warm liquid brushed against Hijikata's fingers as he pushed the cloth in his hand over the wound. The problem wasn't the blood. He knew that. It was the hole in the idiot's damn lung and- jesus. What should he do? How could he help? Anywhere else, a bullet would have been fine. Anywhere- jesus. Jesus.

The world was a blur, even when the medic came and took over, even when his team surrounded him, asking pointless, pointless questions. So many pointless questions. Gintoki was taken away on a stretcher.  
“We've secured the area, sir.”  
“Should we head back?”  
“Sir, what should we do about those who escaped?”  
“Sir-”

Hijikata realised that his breathing was loud and erratic. Every breath he took seemed to do no good and stars began to enter his fading vision, his legs feeling weak beneath his weight. Someone laid a hand on his shoulder, calmly telling him how to breath. He knew how to breathe, idiot. Shut up. Everybody shut up.

“Gintoki.” 

…

Gintoki woke up in bone-crushing agony. His chest was on fire, throat burning as flames choked him. It was painful to breathe, but he gulped oxygen down and opened his eyes with a start. He'd definitely broken a few bones too, but that was almost a normal occurrence now in his life. Though, that didn't make the pain any more bearable. 

“Gin-chan!” someone called to him, bringing the world back into focus as he forced the pain in his expression to ease.  
“Gin-san! Are you okay?”

The walls were white and therefore he concluded either he'd been admitted to a psycho ward where he probably belonged, or he was in hospital. The events of the day began to trickle back into his conscious mind. Government official. Joui raid. Hijikata. Shinpachi. Shopping centre. Amanto. Hijikata. Pain. Hijikata.

He stirred, unwilling to sit up because the throbbing in his chest hurt like hell and he was gagging for air as it was. Instead, he turned his head and blinked away the shadows in his vision.

“You two.” He commented, fondly as Kagura and Shinpachi smiled in relief.  
“What were you thinking, Gin-san?!” Shinpachi scolded, trying to feign anger with clenched fists. “You should leave such terrorist attacks up to the police! The shinsengumi were there. They could have helped you.”  
“Damn right.” Gintoki became steadily aware of another presence in his room, lurking behind the kids. “You charged in there and messed up our plan.”  
“Plan? Shinsengumi? Don't make-” He descended into a fit of coughs, each of which felt like it was ripping his chest apart. The kids stumbled forwards, hands outstretched. Gintoki rested his hand gently on theirs to let them know he was okay, finishing up his coughing with a few scratchy breaths.  
“Do you remember what happened?” The figure behind the kids moved forwards between them and leered down at Gintoki, eyes darkened with immense stress and a fatigue that seemed to drag his shoulders down.  
“Ketsuno Ana was shining brighter than ever today~” He purred contentedly, earning himself a grunt of irritation from the vice-commander looming over him.  
“Today?” He spat, hand reaching up to his mouth until he realised with a twitch of his fingers that there was no cigarette sat between his lips. He lowered his hand and folded his arms across his chest, expression stern. “You've been out for three days.” This made Gintoki start, eyes slowly widening in surprise, the time he had lost slipping away between his fingertips.  
“Three days?”  
“Don't think a bullet wound in the lung heals that easily, moron.”  
“Does that mean...” Gintoki despaired, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish out of water. “Does that mean that I've missed the one hour Ketsuno Ana broadcast special?!” He cried, bottom lip wobbling comically. Hijikata refrained from throwing something at the bastard, though his hand yearned to grasp something sharp.  
“Don't worry, Gin-san.” Shinpachi smiled at him reassuringly. Hope twinkled in Gintoki's eyes.  
“You recorded it, Shinpachi?! Please tell me you have!”  
“No, but me and Kagura watched it. It was really good.”

A wail of agony came from the injured man as he writhed in despair on the bed. For a second, Hijikata couldn't understand this outburst. Was the guy stupid? Was he really this moronic that he was more preoccupied with some weathergirl presenter than the previously gaping wound in his chest that now left a raw scar and was cushioned by painful looking blue-black bruises?

It was the giggle of happiness and relief leaving Kagura's mouth that made the man pause. Shinpachi also let out a small chuckle, casually wiping the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead from three days of worrying. Both of their shoulders lifted slightly and the dreary atmosphere which had clung to the room like a disease for three days had been cured in three minutes. Gintoki stopped his wailing for a second when the kids laughed, also allowing himself a small smile.

And Hijikata understood.

It was weird. Hijikata wasn't used to hanging around with children, living in a block full of men. The closest thing to a child had always been Sougo, who was really nothing like one. And Sougo definitely did not care for Hijikata, nor did he want to be looked after. Kondou was the proud father and all the troops were just a gang of brothers fighting and bickering. No one had ever been directly under Hijikata's responsibility in such a way that those two were to Gintoki. The Shinsengumi put their lives on the line for their team, and then for their city. Gintoki had no such obligations. He had simply rushed into a hopeless situation with just a wooden sword to fight with for the sake of protecting the two idiots he looked after (or who looked after him, as it was).

Looking down at the complaining bastard on the hospital bed, an occasional squint of pain creasing his brow hidden by his jovial, ceaseless babbling, Hijikata felt something he had never thought possible towards the same guy who would handcuff his feet together whilst he was asleep (yes, that had happened).

Respect.

In any case, he still had work to do and now that the idiot was awake and talking, he could finally progress the investigation.

“Oi, yorozuya. I've got some questions. Can I?” The two kids turned around and Kagura sent him a murderous glare that clearly showed her disapproval. It had been three days, after all. And either Kagura was worried about her guardian's health, or she wanted the next few wakeful moments together with Gintoki to herself. Shinpachi also hummed in disagreement.  
“Sure, go ahead. Might not answer 'em though.”  
“First of all. Tell me from start to finish. Everything.”

There was a heavy pause as Gintoki sighed silently, his chest heaving and a sudden tiredness that would obviously come with three days in a coma descended onto his expression. Then finally, his eyes flicked to Kagura and Shinpachi. He didn't need to say anything, they stood up to leave (though Kagura thumped Hijikata in the stomach on her way past). 

(Which hurt like hell though he was never going to admit that).

“So I was watching Kestuno Ana-”  
“I swear to fucking god-”  
“Fine fine, I got it.” Gintoki waved his hand with a small grin twitching his dimples. “And I was wondering which prank to pull on Hijikata-kun next-”  
“Do you want to keep your balls or not?”  
“-when I saw the report on the news. I knew Shinpachi had gone there, so I looked at the weather and decided it was quite nice out. I might take a looksie.”  
“How'd you get in?”  
“The shopping mall's a big place. Couldn't have security everywhere, so I just busted in one entrance at the side and took down a few o' 'em.”  
“Then?”  
“Patience, Oogushi-kun. You have to tell it like a story. So, I went round a few shops and nicked some supplies whilst the assistants were pissing themselves elsewhere-”  
“How many crimes do ya want me to arrest you for?”  
“Then I mused on over to McDonald's and swiped a strawberry milkshake. They sold them in the shop next door cheaper, but when I looked it was made with real strawberries. Like, who the fuck drinks that?” A vein throbbed angrily on Hijikata's forehead. He felt himself tense like a dog getting its fur ruffled backwards. 

“My five a day comes from Terry's. And candy apples. Anyway, then I found myself in the mix of some terrorist attack, 'pparently. Beat a few up by accident and then got chased by a bunch of 'em. Half of them came after me, other half went out front where some big commotion was apparently occurring. Took 'em down. Fast forward all the gory action stuff where I threw a few guys through a window and such. Then next thing I knew, it was me versus a guy with a gun. The gun won but the guy probably left with a few cracked ribs and less teeth than a newborn jellyfish. Then I fell down some stairs and the last thing I knew, there was some dark haired babe leaning over me tending to my wound.”  
“Dark haired babe?” Hijikata frowned. The medics had all been men.  
“Yeah. Leaned over me with a killer glare that sent a shiver down my spine. Though that might have been the pain, who knows.” The confusion stayed in the air until Hijikata caught Gintoki snickering to himself. His cheeks burned and without thinking, he brought a hand down and hit the annoying bastard in the stomach. He immediately regretted it, tensing as he saw the man writhe a little under the blow and struggle for air. His fingers dug deep into the sheets, threatening to rip them. But he didn't let a single moan slip from his throat, holding firm until his breathing steadied.  
“S-sorry.” Hijikata muttered, honestly.  
“S'fine. If that dark haired nurse will come and lay her hands on my chest once more, I'll gladly take a few hits.”  
“Is it in your quota to flirt with anything that breathes?”  
“Hmm, I wonder.” Gintoki mumbled, finally resting on the bed again. 

He considered the information he had been given- basically, Gintoki had rushed in and saved all their asses, albeit by accident. Shinpachi and Otae definitely owed their current beating hearts to Gintoki's rampage, and the rest of the hostages too in some form. Because this idiot had charged in so brazenly, it had opened up a hole for the shinsengumi to exploit. After all, how many of the terrorists were looking out for a slack-faced perm? They had a sharp eye on Hijikata and anyone in uniform, which made it extremely hard to manoeuvre. At the same time, so much could have gone wrong.

And to some extent, it had. 

As a calm silence stretched between them, Hijikata noticed Gintoki's eyelashes fluttering open and closed like curtains in a light breeze. Sleep was calling him and he was clearly finding it hard to resist. He slipped in and out of consciousness, hand dropping by his side and eyes losing their focus. Soon, his head began to relax back into the pillow and his eyes fell closed.

Peace settled into the room for the first time.

After moments of watching the sleeping samurai, Hijikata started as he realised he had been openly staring. Which was creepy now that he thought about it. Not only that, but he hadn't got round to asking any of the questions he had wanted to. They now only had half of the information. The burning question in his mind had surfaced following a tip-off that the same government official who had been attacked by Joui the other day was actually linked to the drug syndicate who had taken over the shopping centre. An unhealthy link. Without proper evidence however, they couldn't incarcerate him. Yet, with the fact that the Joui had attacked this official just days before, it was likely that they knew this information and were acting upon it. Joui getting important information like this before the shinsengumi didn't sit well with Hijikata's stomach. Not well at all.

He left the room before the two younger idiots arrived to avoid them complaining about reduced Gintoki time or whatever. He was met just outside the door by an unwelcome visitor holding a bunch of flowers.

“What the hell are you doing here, Sougo?”  
“Visiting danna.” He gestured casually to the door and Hijikata eyed him, not letting his suspicion go unnoticed.  
“He's asleep, don't bother.”  
“Then you've just spent fifteen minutes staring at a sleeping body? Creepy.” Okita pulled a face.  
“He's just fallen to sleep, bastard.”  
“Your talking put him to bed?”  
“Just leave the poor bastard to recover, will you?”  
“Did you get what you wanted to know? Was the official involved in the attack?”  
“Don't know. I didn't get round to asking questions before he nodded off on me.”  
“Hmm,” Okita finally decided to fall into step beside Hijikata and hummed thoughtfully. “Must have taken a toll on danna.”  
“Yeah,” Hijikata pulled out a cigarette as soon as they were footsteps away from the front entrance, already preparing to light it despite the fact they were still breathing hospital oxygen. “He seemed tired. Winced quite a bit too, though he hid it.”  
“Manly.” Okita chuckled lightly.  
“Stupid. Pretending he's fine when he ain't.” He countered quickly, until Okita thumped him hard on one shoulder and Hijikata had to grit his teeth as the barely healed wound on his upper back burned.  
“Yeah, stupid.” Okita nodded, patting the wound with an unnecessarily heavy palm.  
“Fuck you.”


	4. Kicking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gintoki was … his enemy?

A good woman is not behind every great man, she's beside him

 

The second time Gintoki awoke that day was to the sight of a nurse with a moustache. An actual moustache. She was leaning over him, calling his name and jolting his shoulder (which burned a hell of a lot more than it really should). He blinked several times, trying to come to terms with what he was seeing. The woman stood back when she saw he had awoken and let down her hair from a knotted bun, shaking long black, silky hair over her shoulders. He had to be on some sort of drugs. Whatever they had given him for the pain was clearly too strong and also not working, considering the aches he had from his toes to his bruised nose and all the throbbing organs and bones in between.

“Gintoki, it's me,” the nurse said with a deceptively low tone to her voice. “Katsura.”

Ah.

“Zura!” Gintoki refrained from hitting the idiot, who set about re-arranging his - uh – her disguise, tying his hair into a bun again with excessive skill for a respectful, courageous samurai.  
“It's not Zura, it's Nurse Zurako.”  
“What the hell are you doing here?!”  
“Leader told me you were injured. I'm sorry, Gintoki, for getting you involved in all this.” Gintoki let out an irritated huff and allowed Katsura to help him sit up.  
“Don't suppose you've brought me strawberry milk to make up for dragging my ass into a terrorist plot, you damn terrorist?”  
“It's not terrorist, it's Joui. If we had managed to capture the official that night, we may have managed to stop their plan. Unfortunately we were not able to, even with your help.”  
“I didn't help. And don't ignore me. Fetch me strawberry milk.”  
“Do you want diabetes on top of your other ailments? You should look after your body more, Gintoki.”  
“Shut up. And get out of here before you're found. I don't want the demon of the Shinsengumi back on my tail again like some bloody sniffer animal.”  
“It's good to see you're fine. Leader was worried so I thought maybe you'd kick the bucket this time.”  
“Like hell. Ketsuno Ana has a special interview two days from now. I gotta live until then.” 

Katsura let out a small breath of relief, the false moustache on his lip tilting as he smiled. Gintoki looked out of the window and watched a sky ship soar overhead hundreds of miles away, leaving a puffy trail of white across the sky from its engines. He felt the man beside him shift and set something down on the table, before his presence began to move away towards the door. He didn't turn to watch, but raised a hand and said,

“See ya, Zura.”  
“It's not Zura, it's Katsura. Don't die yet, Gintoki. We still have things to do in this world.”  
“Not with you.” He huffed back, but Katsura had already disappeared. He took a moment to glance at whatever had been left and curled his lip in disgust at the bagful of fruit laid out inside the bottom of a carrier bag. He prodded it with one finger, hoping to discover a hidden treasure amongst the inedible. No such luck. With a great sigh, Gintoki leaned back into the pillow supporting his back until his head touched the back headrest. After a few minutes of thought, he felt sleep begin to call him back to sugar-land and his heavy eyelids sank back down into a deep sleep.

His dreams were not as inviting as he had imagined. There were no rivers of strawberry milk, no mountains of sugar and basically no Charlie and the chocolate factory style wonder awaiting him in dreamland. Instead, he saw blood, corpses and Shoyou's head rolling.

…

Five days later and Gintoki was lazing about back in the yorozuya apartment, sitting transfixed to the television like he'd spent the last week or so doing in the hospital room. In fact, his life hadn't really changed in either scene. Whether at home or attached to a drip, he basically slept, watched dramas and read JUMP. The only difference was that meals were not free back home. Even the constant flow of irritating visitors had not changed, Gintoki thought with anguish as the doorbell sounded once more.

He rolled onto his front and played dead, switching the television off by bashing a heavy hand against the remote and hoping he whacked the right button. He did. The person at the door maintained patience for a few seconds, before ringing the doorbell once more. Gintoki immediately cut out half of the usual perpetrators who ventured to his house. Otose, for one, who would not have had the patience to press the bell even once. There was no shouting, no violence … Gintoki began to wonder if he even knew the individual behind the door. No one he knew would give him the benefit of doubt for ignoring them the first time.

The doorbell rang a third time and this time, it was accompanied with the angry yelling. It soon became apparent which nobhead was visiting.

“I know you're in there, you lazy invertebrate. I'll cut open your door and then your organs if you don't get up.”  
“It's open.” Gintoki groaned loudly, burrowing his face further into the sofa. “What the fuck are you here for, Mayora?” Said person clicked open the front door and shuffled into the house, heading wearily for where the voice was coming from.  
“Were you asleep?”  
“No, just pondering my peaceful life without a single soul to disturb me.”  
“Sorry for your loss.” Hijikata shrugged, sounding less than apologetic. “I have questions.”  
“So do I. What did the first person who took a shit think? Did cavemen have a little voice in their head? And also, how did humans figure out that we could milk a cow? Disgusting to think about, ain't it.” Gintoki stopped his flow of nonsense when he felt someone lift up his feet from on the sofa and then the other end of the cushion sank as they sat down. His feet were lowered again across a pair of legs.  
“I think the person who thinks about that shit is more disgusting. Now, terrorist, tell me how you knew that the government official from the other week was involved in drug trafficking?”  
“Now there's a question.” Gintoki muttered, sarcastically. He turned over onto his back and rested his arms behind his head. He was impressed that the shinsengumi had finally put one and one together. “Let's just be clear. I get dragged into shit. I don't work for anyone. I heard that government official was corrupt and ended up involved with the Joui for shitty reasons. The Joui are aware that the guy's a shit head politician in cahoots with criminals. How else do you think he affords his Hamborghini Space Shuttle? He doesn't pay with the tears of the children he steals from.”  
“We found evidence of him taking bribes from that organisation and some records of his involvement with their drug dealing operations across the universe. We guess that he was planning to use his political influence to help free the prisoners on death row, along with a bit of forceful persuasion from that attack. Just a little more evidence and he'll be eating rice in a yukata the colour of the prison walls.”  
“The Joui were going to capture his ass and use him as propaganda. 'Look how corrupt the bakufu is'! 'Join our cause and make Edo great again!'” Gintoki joined his grandiose speech with a salute to the heart that probably didn't belong in this anime.  
“So that's what they were after … ” Hijikata muttered under his breath. 

Gintoki twitched as he felt the commander's hands drum absent mindedly on his ankles as he sank into a state of deep thought. He span the remote back into his palm where it sat comfortably and re-commenced the programme he had been watching. It didn't manage to distract him from the fingers still dancing along his leg, but whatever internal monologue Hijikata had fallen into didn't seem like it was going to end soon. There were no more questions so Gintoki interpreted that as the limits of Hijikata's knowledge. As he suspected, they had discovered the link to the official probably by accident and were at the beginnings of unravelling the most corrupt happenings in Kabuki's recent history. Nevertheless, Gintoki wasn't going to spill all the juicy details. Half of the reason for that was it put Katsura and even Gintoki at risk. The other half was mainly the fact that he was entertained by the prospect of Hijikata knowing less than him and stumbling blindly into the investigation. He'd probably return every now and again to ask him questions too, and Gintoki would pretend not to revel in hiding information from him.

With a yawn, Gintoki turned his head away from the television and closed his eyes. He was tired, as he had found himself frequently since the accident. His body was always screaming at him to rest and regain his energy, and Gintoki gladly partook in the long snoozes and power naps. It wasn't like he had work to do anyway, as the kids forbade him from doing too much. Another advantage of being ill. That and the free food being delivered in condolences from his past clients and a guilty Joui patriot in a nurses' outfit. Though most of it was inedible. The only thing Gintoki ate that came from the ground was fine grains of heaven.

His thoughts were broken as Hijikata stirred, internal monologue seemingly over for now.

“Want a smoke?” He asked, hands still warming Gintoki's ankles though the silver perm didn't think he realised. He cracked an eye open.  
“I got shot in the lung and you're offering me a cigarette?”  
“We addicts don't think logically.” Hijikata shrugged, holding up the packet. Gintoki remembered his many discussions with doctors who tried to rationalise him, to which he replied that he'd rather die the size of King Henry VIII than cut down on sugar. Hijikata had a point.  
“No thanks. I genuinely don't smoke. Tastes like shit.”  
“I agree.” Hijikata mused, lighting up his own cigarette and breathing deeply. “What about a drink?”  
“Kagura and Otose have already banned me.”  
“They worry for your health, I see.”  
“No, not for that. I'm banned because I got drunk and turned her shop into a hideout. Used all the tables for the walls and Kagura's wardrobe contents as curtains.”  
“Doesn't sound too bad. For you.”  
“I made a bonfire.”  
“Oh.”  
“And used alcohol as firewood.” Gintoki shuffled back down to snooze again, adding as an afterthought- “And used Otose's dead husband's katana as a kebab stick for roasting marshmallows.” 

Hijikata laughed softly and Gintoki felt the reverberations of his stomach through the legs under his. The fingers on his legs left for a second, presumably to take a breath of smoke, before replacing themselves on Gintoki's black trousers and he felt the warmth emanate through once more.

“You going to sleep?” Hijikata asked after a moment and Gintoki didn't bother to grace him with a worded reply. He simply grunted and pressed himself closer towards the back of the sofa. It seemed like the conversation was going to end there and Hijikata resolved himself to return back to work, grasping Gintoki's ankles lightly to move them out of the way so he could stand.

“Stay if you want.” The hands paused. “Go to sleep, too. It's quieter over here. More so than your place, and the kids won't be coming home for a few hours.”  
“Love to take ya up on that,” the commander rose reluctantly and lowered Gintoki's legs carefully back onto the sofa, “but I got stuff to do.”  
“Hmm, s'that so. Well then, if you'll excuse me …” Gintoki span onto his side and huddled himself to sleep. There was a silence, void of footsteps or speech, until Hijikata snorted in amusement and pattered over to the front door. He didn't say goodbye as he left.

…

Gintoki rose from the sofa like a zombie, tripping over the table on his way to douse the screaming beast in his stomach. It wasn't like that table was always in the same place or anything. And it wasn't like he fell over the damn thing every time he slept on the sofa. His feet tapped the floor sluggishly as he hovered in the kitchen, fridge door wide open shining dull yellow light into his weary eyes. Nothing seemed to entertain his stomach as he glared at each item in turn. It was clear that the last person to make the weekly shop had been Shinpachi, because there was actually green things in there. The only time food was green when Gintoki shopped was because it had been left for so long that mould had harvested itself there.

Gintoki contemplated making something with the remnants of dishes in the fridge, but decided he was too lazy and dived in for a snack instead. He would wait until Shinpachi returned and made something more favourable. The yoghurt he chose was strawberry flavoured, but also contained bits of actual strawberries which Gintoki spat out into a conveniently positioned open bin not far from where he leaned against the kitchen side. It was then that the phone decided to ring, and after contemplating the idea of leaving it, Gintoki grudgingly half-jogged to the receiver. It could be the kids calling him. He set down the half eaten yoghurt on his desk and picked up the phone, mouth still full of viscous liquid.

“-llo?” He mumbled, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his yukata and swallowing the last drop in his mouth.  
“Gintoki Sakata. Owner of the yorozuya above Terada Ayano's bar, more commonly known as Otose. Formerly the Joui patriot Shiroyasha.”  
“That's my line.” Gintoki drawled as sarcastically as possible. He had a bad feeling about this caller.  
“Guardian of two kids, who are currently helping to find the lost pet of Takeshi Ken.”  
“'m listenin'.”   
“Good.” The voice replied calmly. Gintoki glanced out of the window, up and down the street. He was looking for something out of place, but nothing struck him as unusual. “I'm part of an organisation whose plans you recently disrupted. It cost us a lot of members. And money.”  
“Yeah, I royally fucked them up, didn't I?” The voice seemingly ignored his jives and continued.  
“If you don't want anything to happen to your two kids and your landlord, I suggest you cooperate.”  
“Like what? Mummy told me not to talk to strangers.”  
“She probably also told you not to stick your nose where it didn't belong, but you did that quite nicely.”  
“A villain with a sense of humour. I like it, in a disgusting way.” Gintoki snorted. He was playing the confident bravado but on the inside, he was memorising the voice of the caller, every remnant of an accent, the choice of vocabulary, the inflections, the tone …   
“Thanks. I'm sure you'll learn to love me. I'll be calling you quite a lot over the next few days, after all.”  
“Joy.”  
“We're going to ask a few things of you. And you will do them without question, no little tantrums and obviously, we'll know if you tell anyone or go against us. And it won't just be you who'll suffer.”  
“Scary.” Gintoki flicked a ball of snot from his nose and hoped the bastard was watching.  
“Indeed. Anyway, if you do as we say, one week from now, we will leave you alone and will not contact you again.”  
“Hmm?”  
“In return, you'll help us to capture the vice commander of the shinsengumi.” Gintoki's eyes widened quickly and his pupils sharpened.  
“Ooh, big goals.”  
“He's a thorn in our side. A strong swordsman; the backbone of the shinsengumi. He'd be adequate payment for the damage you've caused.”  
“You should know that I've never paid a penny I owe back.”  
“I hope, for your sake, you pay this one back. We'll be in touch.”

The phone call ended.

Gintoki waited until he was in the bathroom before punching the wall with all his strength.

…

“The raid was unsuccessful,” Kondou announced to the assembly of shinsengumi members. “However, we will not let this phase us. The information we have is solid, but we cannot make an arrest until we have managed to capture this organisation in the act and prove the relationship between them and Lord Kanto. We'll sit back, gather more information and then stage another raid.”  
“Hopefully this time we won't be wasting police resources charging full strength into an empty building.” Okita sneered and Kondou gently tapped his shoulder, signalling him to sit down with the rest of them. Okita did so obediently as Kondou gave Hijikata the nod to speak.

“There's a large shipment from space reaching the terminal this week which will stay for another seven days. We suspect this will contain the drugs to be sold. There's solid evidence of Kanto's investment into this shipment. On the outside, they're coming to trade flour and rices from across the universe. We'll invade this shipment for a 'routine check-up'. We could be met with resistance.”  
“It's a golden opportunity. Your squad leaders will inform you of your role. Let's make this raid a success!” Kondou exclaimed to the nods and grunts of his men.  
“Rise!” Hijikata commanded and his men quickly stood bolt upright. “Salute!” They did so and Kondou received the compliment as he left. Once he had gone, Hijikata dismissed them and followed his commander.

Once he caught up, Kondou immediately began speaking.  
“How is Sakata-san?”  
“He seems to still be recovering, but it's definitely an improvement.”  
“Good. Did you ask all your questions?”  
“Yeah, basically confirmed what we know. I'll fill you in at the captain's meeting later.”  
“I look forward to it. It's good that he feels better. Maybe now our vice-commander can relax a little, eh?” Kondou only grinned broader when Hijikata shot him a surprised stare.  
“W-what do you mean?”  
“You got through at least four packets a day for the first few days after the incident. Now you've barely had five cigarettes in total, am I right?”  
“Well, yeah but -”  
“I know how close you two are, even if you try to hide it in petty arguments and fighting.” He patted Hijikata on the back with a heavy hand. “I bet you were glad to see him make it through. It was a close call for a while though, mm?” His expression faltered sombrely as he thought back to his first visit to see Sakata, wherein he was shocked to find the bulky man on knife-edge. It seemed like a breath of wind could knock him into the River Styx. Both of them had seen Gintoki covered in more blood than that day with a higher degree of injuries littering his body in open gashes, but this was not the type of injury that could be recovered from easily. Fighting wounds, Gintoki was probably used to. A bullet to the lung was much more life-threatening than what any of them had seen him go through before. 

They were just relieved that it was over now.

“At least he won't be coming round to disturb us anymore.” Hijikata huffed, earning himself a scornful but amused shake of the head from Kondou.  
“What are you doing about his surveillance?” Kondou asked, and Hijikata had to stifle an 'oh yeah', since with everything going on, he had forgotten. Even Yamazaki had.  
“We'll review it. It seemed to be a waste of police resources anyway. We just watched the bastard eat parfait and gamble his way into his underwear.” Hijikata tapped the cigarette in his mouth with his tongue, eyes narrowing in thought as they exited out into the sunlight. They strode towards the front gate to resume patrols separately. Before they parted, Hijikata stopped him, saying,  
“I think we'll withdraw the official surveillance, but I'll personally keep an eye on him.” The look he received made him regret saying that out loud, but he brushed it off by ignoring eye contact. The contented beam on Kondou's face didn't fade as he waved goodbye. Hijikata nodded curtly.

True to his word, Hijikata took it upon himself to seek out the silver-haired moron whenever he had chance. During his short break on the first day, he wandered towards yorozuya's street and dropped in for five minutes with the excuse of finalising the shopping centre ransom report. Though, in actuality, they spent a few minutes bickering and then some more time in silence on the sofa in front of daytime TV. Okay, so maybe Hijikata hadn't spent just five minutes in there. Maybe he had spent 5 minutes arguing animatedly and then ten minutes sprawled horizontally across the sofa, his feet purposefully thrust in Gintoki's face to irritate him. The bastard also had his feet wedged behind Hijikata in such a way that it made it uncomfortable for the both of them to sit, but neither of them were going to give in. It was only when Gintoki received a phone call that he had risen reluctantly from his post.

The next day, Hijikata had visited twice. Not on purpose, of course. The first time, he had spotted the three yorozuya musketeers on his rounds. They were on a job together, Gintoki's first since his injury, which was a good sign. They were helping a shop by working as waiters, dressed in typically old fashioned English servant attire, complete with a stupid moustache (even on China). Hijikata had raided their peace and ordered from the cafe. Usually, he would never slack off in front of his subordinates but this time, he was paired with Sougo. And Sougo was equally up for a spot of relentless teasing.

Then, in the evening, Kondou had asked him to go over to the shop and deliver a bottle of sake for Gintoki 'as thanks for his cooperation'. Hijikata decided with certainty that the commander had ulterior motives, but went along with it anyway. After all, it meant he could keep track on the possible Joui affiliate criminal. It was upon this third visit that Hijikata confirmed that something was amiss in the household.

It was a definite feeling he had gotten from the start. The day before when he had visited Gintoki, the man had stared at him wide eyed for a second, and then diverted eye contact almost guiltily. Things settled down back to normal after a while, but Hijikata couldn't shift the way his muscles were twitching. His nerves were buzzing, telling him that something wasn't quite right. The longer he spent thinking about it, the more he wondered if he was just overthinking things. Eventually the feeling vanished as the two of them wrestled with their feet on the sofa.

Then Gintoki had received the phone call.

“Yorozuya Gin-chan … ah, it's you.” Hijikata found himself startled by the sudden iced edge to Gintoki's words, but when he looked over, the man turned his back. “No, I'm not, don't worry your little fluffy brain over it. … Yes, I know.” Gintoki was pacing as far as the chord on the phone would allow. The strain in his voice to keep his tone level was becoming apparent. “I remember, alright … Yeah, I know … I know... Yeah I fucking know!” He snapped and Hijikata stood up, making enough noise for Gintoki to turn and eye him from over his shoulder. Hijikata gestured to the door mouthing, 'should I leave?', but Gintoki waved his hand and continued his phone call. “As I'm sure you stalkers know, it's pretty hard for me to talk right now. Get it? I fucking know what to do, stop sweating rivers over pathetic details. See ya.” The phone clattered onto its base, silenced abruptly.

“Ex-girlfriend?”  
“What? No. Yeah. No … Just some pathetic bastard. Don't ask or I'll get wound up again and do something stupid.”  
“Wasn't going to, you think I'm interested in you?” Hijikata scoffed, folding his arms and rolling his eyes. “Thanks for cooperating with the investigation.” He commented as dryly as possible, before waltzing out of the apartment.

The next meeting they had started off completely normal. The tension from the day before seemed to have diffused out of Gintoki's body, and Hijikata was dragged into their usual flow of banter in less than a minute. Everything seemed normal, but then again, the kids were there. And Gintoki was known to put up a front for them. The yorozuya were helping out a restaurant owner and Sougo had suggested visiting them- entirely for sadistic purposes, though he didn’t say that out loud. Their drinks were served with a glare and a smirk (courtesy of Kagura and Gintoki respectively) and the two of the waiters were thanked with a glare and a smirk from Hijikata and Sougo. It was only when someone bumped into the younger Shimura sibling that Gintoki was revealed to be less than okay. Hijikata was sure he was the only one to see his temporary loss of composure, but it was certainly there.

It occurred when a customer, dressed in baggy western clothes, hands hidden within a hoodie and hair shielded from the light by a low cap, stood. He made his way to the door, but seemingly tripped over the air around him because suddenly he was falling into Shinpachi. The megane stumbled to keep his balance and there was a loud clatter accompanied by a sharp bang as they collided and Shinpachi dropped everything he was holding. Hijikata's ears pricked at the sound. The stranger stood and bowed in apology before leaving, passing Gintoki on his way out.

Gintoki was sweating.

His face had paled. He stared at a point on the floor so avidly that Hijikata was forced to glance across. There was a dint in the tile, round and deep, close to where the incident had occurred. It steamed gently for a few seconds. Something had cracked the tile. Hijikata's eyes roamed back to Gintoki. He was glancing around like a cornered animal – Hijikata was unsure if he looked like he was looking for something to hit or somewhere to escape. Gintoki went to Shinpachi's side and made sure to check him over thoroughly for injuries. He did so by joking around in his usual way, but his voice broke which provided cement for the vague perception Hijikata had that something was definitely off. Normality resumed so quickly though that Hijikata didn't have chance to do more than watch with eagle eyes.

Their third meeting that evening was when Hijikata Toshiro discovered the troubles simmering beneath Ginoki's calm outer exterior.

“Eh~ you again?!” Gintoki grumbled from his desk where he appeared to be stacking empty plastic parfait containers into a mountain. Hijikata had let himself in without knocking.  
“Where are the kids?” Hijikata asked, casually, dragging up a chair to sit opposite Gintoki.  
“Downstairs with the old hag.”  
“Good.” He presented a bottle of sake and sat it behind the tower of containers. The man across from it eyed the item suspiciously from between a gap in his creation.  
“Poison?”  
“Kondou sent it. 'Thanks for cooperating'.”  
“Hmm?” The tower was collapsed instantly with a swish of his hand, the bottle brought closer for further inspection. “So why are you sat there so expectantly, hm?”  
“You ain't going to drink alone, are ya?”  
“What? So I have to share my gift with you?”  
“Either that or the dog.”  
“The dog is better company.” Gintoki sniffed, unscrewing the top and tilting the bottle to his nose. “Smells like alcohol.”  
“If we'da wanted to kill ya, we'd 'av done it ages ago.”  
“If you could.” Gintoki resealed the bottle and pushed it away. “Don't feel like drinking today.”

Hijikata would have spat out the liquid in his mouth if he'd have been offered any in the first place.

“You've been strange, recently.” Gintoki didn't hide his surprise.  
“Am I really that obvious?”  
“Not usually.” Hijikata grabbed the bottle and took a swig of the liquid without asking permission. Gintoki didn't try and stop him. “Usually I can't read that shaggy head a' yours. But these past few days you've been on edge.” The phone took that opportunity to ring and only supported Hijikata's words. Gintoki suddenly looked to the floor and he was an unusual colour. His eyes were darkened and angry, but there was a sense of loss to his composure. A loss of energy, of hope. He made no move to answer the phone, reluctance heavily apparent, so Hijikata reached for it. He managed to grab it despite Gintoki's sudden sharp reaction to stop him, diving across the table to take the device from his hand. Hijikata stepped away quickly and listened to the receiver and Gintoki stumbled around the desk.

“Plans are moving forwards, Gintoki.” A deep voice said, tone a melody of suave notes. “Since you seem so eager.”  
“What plan?” Hijikata asked just as he was tackled to the ground by a frantic silver-haired idiot. The voice paused and it was obvious they recognised that it was not Gintoki. The silence hung for a second as Hijikata struggled on his back, planting one palm against the yorozuya to hold him at a distance. Gintoki's strength won over though and he retrieved the phone, pressing it against his ear as he pinned Hijikata beneath him. He kept the phone between his ear and shoulder, trying not to strain the wire which had already pulled the handset off the desk.  
“Bad timing,” Gintoki grunted, anchoring his hands to the floor with Hijikata locked underneath them. The demon commander thrashed like a shark out of water, but Gintoki's attention was elsewhere. “Don't you dare! Don't touch them!” The threat was desperate and viciously angry, teeth bared as he grunted into the phone. “I did everything you said so fucking hurry up.”  
“Yorozuya!” Hijikata yelled, struggling, wriggling every limb beneath the heavy weight of the other samurai. Gintoki cursed and shifted his grip to close his fingers across Hijikata's mouth.  
“Come now. This is your only chance.” Gintoki was ignoring the muffled grunts from beneath him, focussing on the phone call until the other person seemed content. Eventually, Gintoki threw the phone away and watched it clatter across the floor but maintained his strong grip on Hijikata.

Hijikata managed to free his mouth, jerking out of Gintoki's grasp with such strength that the man had to readjust his hold. The demon commander panted heavily, managing barely to grasp Gintoki's arm by the bicep and push it away. Once again though, Gintoki fought hard to maintain his position. Pain seared through Hijikata's wrist where the man held him down. It was clear that this was no ordinary fight. Soon, Hijikata realised that Gintoki had ulterior intentions and that there was no way he was going to let Hijikata get out of his iron grip any time soon. One look in his crimson red eyes said that.

Why?

What the fuck was going on?

“What are you doing?” Hijikata barked, lifting his knee sharply and aiming for Gintoki's gut. He winced slightly but didn't give. There was no reply from Gintoki, despite Hijikata's shouting and struggling. Gintoki wouldn't make eye contact, flickering them instead towards the door. With a strong thump of his heart, Hijikata's fighting instinct ignited through his veins. This was no normal bickering. Gintoki was waiting for something. Someone. And Hijikata was suddenly under threat. He struggled harder, but his limbs were becoming weighed down with lactic acid. That and the stubborn man perched on his chest. “Let me up, you bastard!”. With an exaggerated crash, the door slammed open and an amanto entered, armed. He was swiftly followed by two more. God knows how many were waiting outside.

This was an attack.

Hijikata was under attack.

Fear powered his body with a new strength. With the hardest punch he had delivered in his entire life, Hijikata was suddenly free as Gintoki recoiled slightly. Hands grabbed for him again but he fought his way out of them easily, scrambling away from his attackers. Finally, he could use his katana -

“Sorry.” Gintoki said, voice barely audible in the conflict as Hijikata's hand grasped at the air around his hip, his eyes snapping to the sword in Gintoki's lap. He was thrown off guard. A shot rang and he knew vaguely that something had pierced the skin on his thigh. He quickly pulled it out, buckling slightly under the foreign feeling that began to crawl up his leg. There were arms wrapped around his throat. He kicked furiously and landed several until the grip slacked. With a jerk and a twist, he collapsed onto the ground and was fumbling again to get onto his feet. His right leg just would not listen. That was when he felt a second jabbing sensation in his forearm. He was late in ripping this one out and he already felt his entire body numbing. 

Hijikata was trying to think but he barely had enough brain capacity left over to observe his surroundings. These events were unfathomable to him. Gintoki was … his enemy? The notion was foreign. He couldn't grasp at reality. He threw glanced towards Gintoki, waiting for the man to kick himself into gear. To move. To help. To explain why the fuck this was happening.

His movements lagged and he was screaming at his legs to move but they weren't listening. Scrambling to the side, he was met with more hands pushing him down. Two people now, and despite his furious shouting and struggling, he knew he was being overwhelmed. It was a sickening realisation that without his sword and with his muscles shutting down one by one, he might not get out of this. A third dart hit him and Hijikata fell limp, casting one last glance at Gintoki as his head began to roll involuntarily. He felt heavy. His struggle for consciousness was short lived.

He never gave up trying to stay awake, but he was dragged kicking and screaming into unconsciousness, blackness enfolding him in a painful, restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a drabble this got long


	5. Bleeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Re-opened old wounds, I see.”

When you enter someone's heart, don't forget to take off your hat

 

Things were not any more pleasant when he awoke.

He still felt groggy, drugged. His eyes were open but he wasn't understanding what he was seeing. It was dark. Murky colours swam. He rolled onto his side. The floor was cold. Concrete? He planted one palm on the floor to steady himself, but still lurched forwards when he attempted to sit up. He heard shuffling but until he could raise his head enough to see around himself, he wouldn't spare another thought towards his hearing. An unsteady arm fell from underneath him once more. With a grunt, he tried again and this time managed to lift his torso from the floor enough to look around. He gave himself several seconds to adjust to the light and his spinning head. The images were slow to react in his brain, almost like he was drunk. Drugged.

Drugged?

He'd been drugged.

He swore out loud and blinked his eyes slowly, trying again. A room registered itself in his head. Grey walls that looked liked they had been painted just once in their lifetime and a concrete floor. There was one door around two metres from Hijikata's nose. Something called to him and his head cocked in the direction of the noise.

“-kata... Oi …. ou … me?”  
“Mmm?” A mass of whites was sat to his right. A person, leaning against the wall on the floor. It was speaking to him, but Hijikata had to blink away the bright light radiating off him. Too much white for such a dark room.  
“Oiii. Hijikata. Wakey wakey.”  
“Where …?”  
“You still drugged? Well they did manage to get three of the buggers into you.”  
“... where?” He said again, struggling onto his knees and rubbing his eyes with clumsy hands. It was like his brain couldn't figure out where his arms ended and his fingers began. Where were his legs? Was he sat right now? All his senses were fucked to high heaven.  
“Ship bay near the terminal, I think. Did you enjoy your little kidnapping experience?” As Hijikata came back to his senses, slowly, painfully slowly, the figure sharpened in his eyes. He finally recognised the man beside him.  
“-toki? Gintoki?” The man's words clicked into his drugged brain. Kidnapped. The incident flooded back to him. “Bastard, what're you … here, why?” The words slurred as he leapt forwards to secure his hands around Gintoki's throat. He never got there, stumbling sideways until he landed on the floor, head lolling.  
“Maybe you should go back to sleep until the drug wears off.” Gintoki shuffled himself further away. It seemed complex movements and sentences were still out of the question – he had enough brain capacity to figure that out, so Hijikata moved himself into a sitting position against the wall and chased oxygen back into his lungs.  
“Explain.”  
“The guys who caused chaos at the shopping centre, the ones in cahoots with the bastard official, wanted your ass as payment for me fucking up their plans.” Short but sweet. And so brutally honest that Hijikata felt like the words had pierced his stomach.  
“You s-sold me out?”  
“They gave me an offer I couldn't refuse.” Gintoki shrugged. 

Hijikata gave himself a moment, pondering this information. What would Gintoki trade for someone else's life? Parfaits and sweets? No, only as a joke. He could be a decent human being when it came down to moral standing – just not ordinary things like public decency. He was weird like that and would probably walk through the streets in strawberry underwear without blinking his dead-fish eyes. However thinking about his samurai code, in essence, Gintoki's was the same as Hijikata's. Just as Hijikata would grow every wrinkle at Kondou's side serving as his sword, his shield and his fist when the situation demanded it, Gintoki had made some sort of promise to the old woman, Otose. A promise which he had shed blood and broken bones to protect so far. He was her guard dog and had proven himself to be a man of his word, if it didn't involve sugar or young boys' magazines. Then, there were his kids. From their many interactions, Hijikata had seen Gintoki take on a sort of father/ uncle/ older brother/ giant baby role in the little family the yorozuya had created. It seemed logical to assume that someone had threatened Sakata Gintoki. Hijikata Toshiro in exchange for the ones he wanted to protect.

Not only did that tear open a gaping hole in his stomach that made him feel sick and weak and ill, despite the drugs pumping around his system, it also made sense. As far as he knew, Gintoki had been given a similar ultimatum in the past. His friends' lives or his teacher's. One dear, precious life or three. 

“Threatened … they threatened you?”  
“Yeah, that and I figured I'd prefer to be stuck in a cell on an amanto drug trafficking ship with you, rather than the two kids. Kagura would get hungry and start considering cannibalism and Shinpachi would sing Otsu songs in his madness. To be honest, I don't know which is scarier. And then the old hag would just bitch and whine.”  
“Hm, ahm …” Hijikata took a breath. The world wouldn't stop swaying. He felt like he was on a boat. “How do we ...” He felt his stomach lurch and tried to stand, but the weight of another arm on his held him back.  
“Don't move about too much, you'll hurt yourself.” Hijikata complied simply because he didn't have the strength to resist. He allowed himself to be pulled back onto the floor where he leaned against a warm shoulder. A hand rested on his opposite arm, providing the stability Hijikata sought in this spinning universe. 

“There wasn't anything I could do.” Now that he was closer, Hijikata could sense the warm breath and deep vibrations coming from Gintoki. The smooth tones soothed him, something familiar in a mess of foreign emotions. The deep earthy smell of another man drifted into his nose. “There was a bunch of them tracking the kids and even you. I was under time constraint, too. But don't worry. I have a plan.”  
“Probably somethin' stupid.” Hijikata mumbled into the man's broad shoulder and felt it vibrate as Gintoki chuckled softly.  
“Probably.” He admitted. “But I'm pretty successful, ya know.”  
“Really?”  
“I've survived 100% of my plans to date.” This time it was Hijikata's turn to laugh, but it came out more like a sigh. The feeling was slowly returning to his limbs. He lifted his palm experimentally and flexed his fingers one by one. “Head clearer now?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Though it was pretty cute to see you fumbling around like bambi.”  
“Shut it, you sadist.”  
“I kind of preferred you dumb and clumsy.”  
“Suck it up. What are they going to do with us, then?”  
“Who knows. The Demon Commander's head is worth quite a lot. All I know is that they leave port in a few days, so everything will be over by then, one way or another.”  
“So you think they'll sell us to someone who wants us dead?”  
“Possibly. Or, they might ransom you back for the heads of those criminals on death row. Whichever pays more. After the incident, their sentences were postponed until the terrorist threat subsided.”  
“Likely Kanto's work. Buying some time.”

Hijikata took a deep breath and when he let go of the air in his lungs, it felt like he was expelling the last of the drug from his system. He was waking up, in mind and body, feeling alive again. His thoughts were moving again, his movements fluid. The warrior in him was buzzing in the middle of enemy territory, thinking, planning. He still felt exhausted though, so he remained leaning against Gintoki's shoulder as said person gently slid his hand up and down Hijikata's sleeve. The movement was trance inducing, making him feel heavy and comforted. It was like settling under a warm futon or sitting in front of a crackling fire. Soon, he felt his eyelids droop closed.

…

“Get out of here, you disgusting sadist. You're making my sukonbu taste like shit.”  
“Kagura-chan, language.” Shinpachi sighed heavily, once again peering out of the window down the street. Still no sign of a mess of silver hair. Okita Sougo put his mobile back into his pocket and sent a glare towards Kagura, who was curled up with Sadaharu munching on sukonbu and a parfait labelled with a warning in capitals. Clearly she had ignored the warning.  
“Our commander wants to know where your boss has gone. Clearly, Hijikata-san is with him. They both vanished at the same time, after all.”  
“It's normal for Gin-san to wander off from time to time, but Hijikata-san …” Shinpachi stopped himself from glancing out the window for the nth time and instead busied himself tidying Gintoki's desk.  
“Hijikata-san came here, and two days later, he still hasn't returned. Kondou-san is on the verge of sending out the entire of Edo's police force after him.”  
“We don't know where they've gone, but I'm starting to get worried.”  
“He's probably in that red light area.” Kagura shrugged, finished another piece of sukonbu with a pop.  
“Kagura-chan!” Shinpachi screeched.  
“What? Gin-chan says he goes there a lot to play with the fire engines.” Okita gave her a smirk and laughed menacingly under his breath, causing Kagura to glare daggers at him.  
“It's not like I care where he is, but Kondou-san's getting' angsty. And I can't take Hijikata's position until we confirm he's dead.”  
“Shut up you slimy sadist. They're not dead.” Kagura spat, tossing the nearest object at Okita which happened to be a lampshade. Her throw de-rooted it from the plug socket and Okita barely dodged the flying household appliance.  
“Don't throw the furniture! Unless you want to work yourself to skin and bone to repay the damage.” Shinpachi admonished her once more, sighing with the effort of once again chiding the yato girl.  
“We can do without one or two lamps.” Kagura sniffed, folding her arms and sulking. Shinpachi had noticed she'd been moody as of late and this was likely because of the lack of one big wailing baby lurking around the apartment, complaining about nonsense. She was worried; they both were. Though Gintoki would frequently leave for a day or so with little warning, there was always something he said that confirmed that he intended on coming home. A note on the fridge saying, 'don't eat my parfait whilst I'm gone. I MEAN it.', or a quick wave over his shoulder as he grunts, 'don't let Sadaharu sleep in your bed or you'll get fleas'. 

This time, there had been nothing, which suggested that Gintoki himself hadn't expected he was going to leave. Even Otose had raised an eyebrow when she found out he was still missing. She usually had more of an idea what he was thinking than the rest of them. And that wasn't the most confusing part of the whole incident. Why had he vanished along with Hijikata of the Shinsengumi? Shinpachi could only guess that Gintoki had been caught up in something whilst knocking about outside with the demon vice-commander. It was of slight comfort that the two of them had disappeared together. At least that demanded some assurance. They were both strong and Hijikata had some degree of intelligence. Gintoki was just a ball of instincts waving a stick; there wasn't much thought behind it. Hijikata, however, had a good head on his shoulders. But still, it was only a little comfort. For the two of them to take off without warning …

No, they hadn't 'taken off'- something had happened. Something neither of them were expecting.

“I'm going out to look again. Kagura-chan, stay here and wait for him, okay?”  
“I want to come too!” She said, scrambling to her feet and reaching for her umbrella. Shinpachi checked once more up the street before scratching the bridge of his nose where the rim of his glasses sat.  
“You need to stay here in case he comes back.” He was protecting her and Shinpachi was certain she knew it, but he was the oldest now. He had a responsibility. He was trying to think what Gintoki would do (and avoid doing that at all costs).  
“'m coming.” Okita announced, straightening up until his back clicked satisfyingly. “After all, I can't miss this opportunity to finish him – ah. I can't miss this opportunity to find Hijikata.”  
“That wasn't very subtle, Okita-san.”

After an hour of mindless walking with no real plan as to where they should look, Shinpachi suggested they once more try the station and this time, ask a member of staff if they'd seen either a flash of silver hair with an inability to wear a yukata correctly, or a bulky mass of darkness that gave off a sort of 'seppuku' vibe. Light and dark walking side by side through the street – they really shouldn't be that hard to find. Though Shinpachi took a moment to muse over the irony that Gintoki, the 'light', was a former Joui patriot and warrior during the war. Whilst Hijikata, the 'darkness', was on the side of the law and fought to defeat people like Gintoki. They both lent a hand in protecting Kabuki, despite their polar opposite nature.

They approached the station once more, the crowd visibly thickening around them. Shinpachi glanced across at Okita to check that he was still close by, and found him to be distracted. His eyes were slightly narrowed. It wasn't a very obvious change in expression, but for someone who rarely showed concern for anything, it was worthy of a second glance. To which, Shinpachi noticed Okita looking around – something which he hadn't done once since they had left and Shinpachi had wondered just how serious he was about finding his vice-commander.

“Something wrong?” He asked.  
“Mmm, maybe.” Was the only reply as they approached the entrance to the station, squeezing through the counterflow of people pushing them back.  
“What do you mean?” Shinpachi copied Okita, eyes scanning the area, peering over the heads of people.  
“Not that way,” Okita lifted a hand and made a subtle gesture pointing behind them. “We're being followed.”  
“Are you-!” Shinpachi reigned in his voice and coughed. “Are you serious?”  
“Mm.” With the smallest of pushes, Okita directed Shinpachi towards the men's toilets and they disappeared inside. It was unlikely that anyone would follow them in there – far too obvious. There were two or three people in the stalls and one drying his hands, so talking was still restricted. “Since we left the yorozuya, I think.”  
“Seriously?!”  
“Yeah. Thought they were just heading into town like us. Lost them for a while but just caught them behind us again. Who, by chance, goes to the station twice in the same day at the same time?”  
“That is definitely suspicious. Why, though?” Okita said nothing as the noise of the drier suddenly exposed their conversation when it shut off. The man left as Okita pretended to wash his face in the sink. Shinpachi stood by, fiddling with his yukata. They continued this act as the toilet inhabitants did their business and left. Eventually, they were alone.  
“Well it's not an attack or they'd have done it. It's surveillance.”  
“Of me or you?”  
“Not sure.” Okita shrugged, ripping a paper towel from the dispenser to dry his face.  
“Do you think this is linked to those two disappearing?”  
“Maybe. For now, let's carry on as normal. We can monitor him as he monitors us.”  
“What does he look like?” Shinpachi asked, but Okita didn't have chance to answer as a man wearing a red suit entered, disrupting their conversation. The two of them pushed back through the door into the rush of people running – or speed-walking – for trains.

They carried on as though unaware that they were being watched. Now that Okita had pointed it out, it didn't take long for Shinpachi to notice it too. How had he not felt it before? The burning on the back of your neck, the sharp blade licking your throat every time you moved … he felt like he was walking across an icy plane and one slip would send him spinning back into the jaws of a predator. What did they want? 

Things were beginning to get suspicious.

…

“Gottya.” Gintoki smirked, pulling his open palms out of the way just as Hijikata made a swipe for them. They were playing a game, as was Gintoki's casual suggestion. In normal times, Hijikata would have smacked him for being an idiot, but they had been sat in the same room for hours now with no human contact (Gintoki didn't count), so boredom was beginning to nibble away at his sanity. That and Gintoki's singing as an attempt to entertain himself.

The game was simple. The attacker held out their hands, palms to the ceiling, below the down-facing hands of their opponent. They would try to slap the back of the other person's hands. If they succeeded, they could continue hitting. If their opponent managed to dodge, it was their turn to attack. Such a simple, childish game was actually riling him up. Especially when Gintoki won.

Slap. Gintoki successfully tapped the back of Hijikata's hands and moved back to the starting position. Hijikata's eyebrows twitched in irritation. Slap. He hit again, despite Hijikata's desperate attempt to move his hands away in time. He clicked his tongue in agitation. He was deciding that this game was no good for his self control. Slap. Slap. Slap. Hijikata bit back a curse that would make obvious his building aggression, but the look on Gintoki's face when he raised his eyes for a second made the words spill out.

“Fuck you.” He cursed. Gintoki's lips kicked up into a grin. He held his ground, unmoving, building the tension as Hijikata anxiously waited for him to attack. Suddenly, he flinched his hands and Hijikata rapidly drew away.  
“Oh my, nervous are we?” Gintoki grinned again as Hijikata chewed on his bottom lip after having fallen for a feint. 

He fell for three more feints, before he slapped his hands down violently onto Gintoki's. The latter let out a surprised yelp and backed away.

“That's not how the game works!” He whined, rubbing his battered palm. Hijikata barely refrained from touching his own burning hands.  
“Fuck your game.”  
“Fuck you!”  
“Fuck you more!”  
“Fuck this room!”  
“Fuck your damn plan!”  
“Fuck your shitty police force for not being able to prevent this.”  
“Fuck you!”  
“That was a genuine reaction, wasn't it?” Gintoki giggled to himself. “Well then, what now?”  
“For a start, tell me what your plan is.”   
“A magician never reveals his secrets.”  
“Ass.”  
“Your mouth is foul. Probably from all that dog shit you eat.”  
“Speak for yourself, sugar demon.”  
“Real demon.” Gintoki countered. Hijikata let out a strangled moan and rolled onto his back.  
“Why do I have to be trapped in a room with an elementary kid?”  
“Hmm, because I brought you here.” Gintoki said and his tone dropped a few degrees. Hijikata knew it was a test. They'd been goofing around for the last hour or so, but the reality was still that Gintoki had taken a part in kidnapping Hijikata and basically selling his life off. Hijikata had felt it before, but there was definite guilt lurking about somewhere behind those dead, red eyes. He took a moment to look at said eyes, absorbing the lack of emotion in them that spoke volumes of unsaid words.

He wanted to know if Hijikata hated him for this. He expected it. He was shutting off his emotions to pretend that this was all his doing – he didn't want to play the pity card. Those deep, swirling pupils whispered blame me, almost as though he couldn't forgive himself if not. Gintoki was waiting for him to lash out; to shout; to hate. 

“Don't treat me like one'v yer kids,” Hijikata finally said. “I don't need you protecting me. They were after me anyway, n' now I can work from the inside. I'm partially grateful, y'know.” There was a snort that said his answer had not satisfied Gintoki. “Look, if it'd've been you or the shinsengumi, I'd still be locked up with you.”  
“You're saying you don't want to tear off my fingernails one by one because of what I've done to you? You could die, you know.”  
“M' telling you, I'm not one've yer kids! There ain't no way I'm dying. 'Sides, you have a plan, right?”  
“Mm.”

Click.

Hijikata shot to his feet and his hand went to grab his sword, which wasn't there, obviously. The door opened. He dived forwards, aiming to take them by surprise before whomever it was could lock their sights onto them. He raised a fist, pouncing forward. His eyes barely registered the tip of a katana lunging forwards to slice him, but then there were hands on his hips pulling him out of the way. He tumbled to the floor and rolled into a groaning heap. The click of his ankle hadn't sounded good, nor did it feel good. He didn't feel like staging another surprise attack any time soon. They were still in danger, so he scrambled onto his knees to assess the situation.

Blood dripped.

That was the first thing that registered in his brain, one colour throbbing loudly in his head. Blood had been shed, and he was pretty sure it wasn't his. The familiar sting of an open would wasn't there. The next thing he saw was Gintoki standing where Hijikata had been milliseconds away from being skewered like a kebab. Gintoki was wincing, teeth gritted. The source of the blood was him. Hijikata ran his eyes down the scene to where Gintoki had physically deflected the blade with one hand after shoving the hot-headed commander out of the way with the other. If he hadn't have pushed the blade out of the way with his bare hands, the sword would have pierced him straight through. If he hadn't have pushed Hijikata aside, it'd be Hijikata spilling blood.

The wound was deep, but not life threatening if they could staunch the blood and prevent infection. The perpetrator lowered his sword and stepped into the room so that he could be seen.

“Take your dog and sit yourselves along that back wall.” The voice ordered and Hijikata immediately recognised it from the dodgy phone call. Gintoki's hand trembled violently at his side, rejecting the signals he was giving it to move. It was likely his nerves had been severed as the cut sliced from his palm all the way up to his elbow in a gaping red ooze of blood. A second later and Gintoki obeyed quietly, sliding his good arm beneath Hijikata to help him limp towards the back wall, where they slid down it onto the floor.

A man dressed in a maroon coloured yukata flicked the blood from his sword and replaced it at his hip. There were two men behind him with guns, the obvious bulk of the operation, whilst the yukata samurai was the brains - that much was apparent from his cocky confidence emanating from every pore. There was a spider's web of fine lines decorating his yukata in stark white. More threateningly, he was adorned with a variety of bladed weapons. Hijikata decided the more pressing matter wasn't to indulge this bastard with weary looks, but to tend to the grunting man on the floor beside him, so he did so.

Gintoki was already fumbling with his bright white yukata to rip off a section and staunch the blood, but with only one operating arm, he was fumbling uselessly. Hijikata gently tapped his hand as a signal to let go and allow him to do it. He tore a long strip from the bottom and began wrapping it tightly around the wound. It was clear that soon it'd be more crimson than white, but the problem was temporarily resolved. Gintoki drew a sharp, shuddering breath and lent back against the cold wall. Hijikata glared as hard as he could at the man before them.

“Done?” He asked, cocking his head to one side. “Oh and if you're thinking of running, there's another door past this one that's locked. You need a code for it, which is inside my head.  
“ABC123?” Gintoki choked out and Hijikata had to smirk at the fact he was still pumping out stupid jokes even in this situation. “Is there a security question? Your mother's maiden name? Because I know that one.”  
“Well, even if you got past us to the door, we have guns and you have three and a half arms between you.”  
“We'll manage.” Gintoki shrugged.  
“I don't see you trying.” The man replied quickly. “Anyway, I'm only here to show you to your buyers.” On cue, two amanto slipped from behind the guards to peer into the room.  
“God's above,” one exclaimed. “It really is the Shiroyasha.”

Hijikata started. His breath hitched involuntarily as two and two slammed together to explode in a gigantic, blazing four. The Shiroyasha, who Hijikata had come across when trying to look into Gintoki's past, was Gintoki. He knew roughly where Gintoki was from and that he had fought in the war, so the name Shiroyasha had been hit up multiple times. He definitely knew about the Shiroyasha. He'd heard the name when he lived at the temple. The saviour; the killer; the Shiroyasha. He was synonymous with the type of legends mothers told their children before they slept – sometimes the story of a hero, other times a tale of warning.

Behave or the shiroyasha will come visiting.

He also knew of him from basic police training. The name was imperative to know for every policeman for of course, he was a comrade of the raging noble Katsura who still caused trouble on many occasions, serving as a reminder that the Joui were not dead. Then, there was Shinsuke Takasugi – a nuisance of the grandest level. A powerful, poisonous thorn in the bakufu's side that crept its path throughout the universe, strangling opposition and gradually building a thorned army the size of an empire. But, two of the four most feared legends of the war had disappeared. Intelligence had it that Sakamoto had taken off into the universe which made him hard to track and also not their problem, since he was wreaking havoc outside of Edo's boundaries. The other was turning out to be more their problem, however.

The final name, the Shiroyasha, had disappeared like a trail of rising smoke in the wind. Such a renown, powerful man had disintegrated into merely a legend- a white haired demon, feared by enemies and comrades alike. They had assumed he had died or moved far away. There were hundreds of horror stories remaining that Hijikata had dredged up about the man, with references to demons and vampires - a blood sucking monster born on the battlefield with no remorse for life and what he took from it. A man who would cut down his friends for amusement, who could chop of the heads of his closest friends and rage unrestricted through armies of amanto, alone. His sword left no heart still beating.

And he was sat here.

 _Fucking hell, Toshiro. How many people do you know with white hair?!_ Hijikata cursed to himself.

The Shiroyasha was allowing himself to be prodded at and kicked by one of the two amanto. Hijikata bared his teeth into a snarl, but Gintoki continued staring past towards the man delicately cleaning off his sword with a cloth one of the guards had supplied.

“Not so tough now are ya, without yer great big army.” The amanto booted Gintoki in the face; still no reaction. “Plenty o' my men died 'cos of you.”  
“Cry me a river.” Gintoki sniffed, lifting his good arm to remove the heel of the shoe on his face and pick lazily at his nose. For this, he received another kick to the face. Hijikata braced himself to attack the bastard, but was halted by the smug looking mafia-boss lurking behind.  
“Please don't damage my merchandise.” He commented, replacing his sword at his hip and throwing the cloth over his shoulder to the guards. “I'll have to charge you.”  
“You damaged him yourself.” The amanto grunted, gesturing to the blood pooling beneath Gintoki's limp left arm.  
“Then we'll call it even. Now you've seen for yourself. How much will you pay to be the ones to kill them?”  
“The Shiroyasha ain't a threat to us any more.” The second amanto mused, turning his gaze to Hijikata who bristled instantly under three gleaming blue eyes. “The shinsengumi, on the other hand … Shame you couldn't have got rid of them all.” Hijikata refrained from cursing at them, though it was a struggle.  
“We sell you the vice-commander. What you do with him is up to you.” The man shrugged.  
“So we use the Queen bee to trap the nest? I like your thinking, Adachi-san.”  
“I never said anything,” Adachi commented lightly. “I just said that once you buy him, you can do what you like.”  
“Then what about the Shiroyasha?”” The second amanto returned the conversation to Gintoki as the first amanto backed up towards the door again.  
“We buy him too. I could have hours of fun with the Shiroyasha.” The first amanto said, grinning to display a less than full set of yellowed teeth. Hijikata narrowed his eyes once more, wishing he wasn't metaphorically bound so that he could smash each of their faces into the nearest concrete surface. Multiple times. 

A hiss sounded from beside him.

It wasn't an aggressive hiss; Gintoki was paling quickly. He cradled his bleeding arm in his lap and huffed sharp, short breaths, sweat beading on his forehead. Hijikata swallowed. Adachi hummed.

“Re-opened old wounds, I see.” He said, offhandedly. Hijikata shot him a murderous look and Adachi laughed. “Don't worry, I take care of my stock. I'll send a medic over later. If he lasts long enough.”  
“Bastard-!”  
“I hope the goods were as you had hoped. Come, we'll discuss a healthy price.” Adachi beckoned the amanto and his guards out of the room, the door thudding shut with an ominous and decisive click.

After a few seconds of strained listening, Hijikata let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding.

“Gintoki.”  
“Back to the blood loss and pain.” The man grunted. Hijikata scooted around to re-dress the wound. He carefully pulled the material from Gintoki's arm where it had begun to stick. There was enough blood still oozing gently to lubricate it though, so it slipped off with relatively few winces (of sympathy from Hijikata). Hijikata unbuttoned his shirt and removed his cravat, shaking it a few times before he pulled it tightly around the wound. “I want a normal weekend. One with parfait and Ketsuno Ana and drama re-runs. Is that too much to ask?”  
“Maybe for the Shiroyasha.” Hijikata shrugged. He tied off the cloth and sat on Gintoki's left hand side so that the wounded arm could be propped alleviated on Hijikata's knee. Gintoki gave him a look.  
“Don't you dare get all diva on me because of that.”  
“'m not.” The very smallest amount of bottom lip protruded outwards.  
“Mmm.” Gintoki replied half-heartedly. Usually, he'd be quick to respond with a sharp, scathing reply, but it was evident that he was starting to struggle to remain lively. His arm twitched slowly, as though Gintoki was trying to lift it and it just wasn't listening. He gave in with a sigh.  
“Consider us equal.”   
“Hm?”  
“You put me in danger then you saved me. Equal.”  
“Like a damsel in-”  
“Don't you dare say it.” Hijikata delivered a sharp whack to the already injured silver samurai.  
“How have you survived in the police this long when you career head first into danger like that?”  
“Occupational hazard.” He shrugged.  
“Sure, but when I'm fixing roofs I don't run up the draining pipe and stand on the tiles like a flamingo. There's doing your job and there's being an idiot.”  
“And you're an idiot. And you don't work. You really are the lowest.”  
“There's no end to your witty humour, is there?”  
“I don't know, try me.”  
“Hmph.” Gintoki snorted again. He shuffled a little to extend his aching limbs and grunted in discomfort. “Hey, Tosshi-”  
“Don't call me-”  
“Tosshi-chan~.”  
“-that.”  
“Lend an old man your shoulder.” His head of wavy locks settled onto Hijikata's tensed shoulder before he could reply. Though it was always going to be a 'no'. He was about to shake his shoulder until the bug on it flopped off, but one muffled grunt made him pause. Gintoki turned his head in towards Hijikata's shoulder, hiding his squinting expression. Hijikata sighed, relaxing reluctantly in acceptance.

He didn't know which old wound was playing up and he didn't dare look. He was afraid of seeing that gun-shot wound once more, the pinker slice of skin on porcelain white, the dark bruising and swelling around battered ribs … 

Gintoki's breathing slowed and settled into a barely audible tickle against Hijikata's neck. He assumed that the former was unconscious or had fallen asleep. Either way, there wasn't much he could do about it except lend the tired man his shoulder for a while. If he were not forced to be sitting here, he'd be pacing. His internal pain was doubled when he reached into his pocket and felt the air where his lighter usually sat. The place where he held cigarettes was also disgustingly empty and that sent a shiver of foreboding down Hijikata's spine: how long would he have to go without a cigarette?

Maybe this was his opportunity to quit.

If only things were that easy. His fingertips were already yearning to grasp one between them and settle the tube between his lips. He felt empty and agitated now that he knew that he couldn't and would have to distract himself somehow. That was easier said than done, since his only source of entertainment was his thoughts and the sleeping, wounded warrior now draped across him. Gintoki had been, admittedly, a good source of entertainment to pass the time which would otherwise be spent cursing over his lack of power. At this moment in time, there were three main concerns swirling around Hijikata's brain. 

First and foremost was Gintoki, though he loathed to admit that. It was the idiot's fault they were here in the first place, but the guy was still recovering from severe injuries and had now suffered a few more to add to this growing list. The blood loss wasn't too bad, but the risk of it growing infected was an increasing and likely concern. Gintoki would probably be the type to pick scabs too – gross. The second issue he had was the obvious one; he was trapped. Where was he? How could he get out? He couldn't answer either of these questions. There was a good chance that Kondou would start investigating his disappearance very soon, if not already, and he had faith that the Shinsengumi would not disappoint in finding him. This meant nothing, however, if he was degraded to be used as a hostage. It was hard to move when hostages were involved. This worry was tied into Gintoki once more, as Gintoki's closest allies and friends were also at risk. They couldn't be rash about this. It was difficult for him to admit, but Hijikata knew that their enemies were one step from checkmate. Moreover, Gintoki had a 'plan' … and that could never be good.

Although, his mind wandered back to the notes he'd read up on the Shiroyasha. The Shiroyasha, Gintoki, had apparently handled covert operations and tactics. The messy perm head could very possibly have more of a brain beneath those curls than he let on. That still didn't give him any faith – a guy who ate his weight in sugar every day could hardly be trusted.

The third worry he had was the apparent lack of cigarettes, obviously. He'd just have to man up on that one.

Hijikata set about brainstorming his two main concerns – Gintoki's first aid requirement and their escape plot – whilst what seemed like hours of silence crept by. There were no sounds coming from outside; the most he could hear was the gentle creaking of an old building. There were no footsteps or bangs, no talking and overall, Hijikata was just wrapped up in the breathing of a certain fool that was now full on drooling across his lap. Asleep, it turned out, as the bastard had muttered something about parfait and nearly knocked Hijikata out with a whack to the face when he rolled over. Hijikata satisfied his anger by squeezing Gintoki's nostrils shut and relishing in the way he wriggled uncomfortably in his sleep. He didn't want to wake him though (as this would be a greater pain) so eventually he let go and set about glaring at the perm in his lap.

White hair, how hadn't he guessed? Plus he was the protagonist and they always had tragic back-stories. It wasn't exactly white though, or silver as the title would suggest. Instead, it had a sort of blue shimmer to it. Hijikata tugged at a few curls to watch the way it glimmered. The way it refused to straighten out pissed him off; each time he let go each lock bounced back into shape. He kept tugging at different strands and it became more of a game than a way of placating the need to aggravate Gintoki even in his dreams. Hijikata began to plait the short locks together, like he'd been taught by Mitsuba when he was younger. He was surprised he remembered how to do it, but what was more shocking was that the plait was actually holding.

By the time Gintoki came to, his hair (unbeknownst to him) was trapped into a few plaits that stemmed from his crown to the nape of his neck. Strands jutted out everywhere like static, but for the most part Gintoki's thick hair kept them glued together. Hijikata had long since stopped bothering the sleeping Gintoki and instead was reciting the back of a mayonnaise bottle to keep him preoccupied. He felt Gintoki stir on his lap and then sit up wearily with a barely concealed wince as he straightened. With a yawn, he scrubbed at his eyes and then focussed lazily on Hijikata whilst the latter refrained from laughing at his own masterpiece.

“Oh, you're still here.”  
“Where the fuck did you expect me to go?”  
“...” Gintoki looked around, confusion evident in his features. Then everything seemed to click and he frowned, bottom lip creeping outwards in a pout. “Oh yeah. We're still here.”  
“Thanks to you.”  
“You're welcome.”  
“How are you feeling?”  
“Kind of tired and like I could do with a parfait.”  
“I meant your injuries, you sugar addicted oaf.”  
“Any news?”  
“Obviously not, and don't change the subject.”  
“I thought you'd be planning an escape, vice-commander of the Shinsengumi. Or are you really just a waste of my taxes?”  
“Like hell you pay them anyway!”  
“No escape route then?” Gintoki grinned and that exploded Hijikata's patience.  
“I might do! But I sure as hell won't be bringing you with me! Anyway, you're the one who said you had a plan! Or was that a- ah. You changed the subject.” Gintoki stifled his laughter behind his hands and turned his face away as Hijikata burned silently from his cheeks right into the tips of his ears. “No, there's no news or plan. I honestly can't think of a way out of here whilst you're in this condition.”  
“So it's my fault?”  
“Everything's your fault.” Hijikata took this opportunity to straighten his legs and let the blood back into them. His ankle still ached nastily, but he was positive it wasn't broken and a little rest would do it good. He had plenty of time to rest anyway. There was only a tiny bit of swelling and no discolouration, so he had probably been pessimistic earlier. Gintoki had descended into silence as he got to his feet and walked up and down the room. Hijikata indirectly kept an eye on him in his peripherals.  
“Prior warning.” Gintoki announced as he stopped moving. “I'm going to strip and check something out.”  
“M'kay.” Hijikata looked away on instinct as Gintoki began to shrug off his yukata with one arm. It was obvious that he was struggling and it took several loud sighs on Hijikata's end before he glanced over, irritated.  
“What the fuck's with you?” Gintoki grunted, still fiddling with his belt.  
“Just ask me for help, you damn cripple.”  
“M' managing just fine!” The belt fell undone and dropped to the floor. Next he worked on stepping out of his yukata. When he finally came to unzipping his black top, Hijikata stopped glaring. He didn't know whether to carry on watching and observe whatever damage Gintoki had befallen, or to avert his eyes. He really didn't want to see Gintoki's injuries again and be reminded of his frozen pallor on a hospital bed, but then again, it was important that he knew.

Gintoki apparently wasn't going to give him a choice anyway; he faced away from him, opening his shirt to peek at his chest. His right hand wandered across, padding gently to test the bruising that Hijikata couldn't see but still knew was there. He didn't let a single wince show. Once he was satisfied, he zipped up and shimmied back into his yukata.

“Good?”  
“All good.” Gintoki nodded. “Still sexy.”  
“Shut up.”

….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly caught up now ... Best get typing.


	6. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was only waiting for one message, one signal.

Irony Is That On Lazy Days The Author Goes To The Gym

 

In Gintoki's half awake/ half slumbering state, vivid memories danced. This wasn't anything out of the ordinary - nightmares for him had become so commonplace that waking up with a clammy forehead and rapid breathing was like his new biological alarm clock. That's just what happened. This dream, however, wasn't his distant past regurgitating back to choke him in his sleep. It was fresher than that and because of that, more colourful and alive – just as haunting.   
Within his dreams was a throbbing pain in his wrist and chest, accompanied by the weight of someone pinned beneath him. His phantom injuries were a very real pain, perhaps actual stimulation from his body intruding on his rest. The image below him was just that, however. An image his brain had thrown back up, retrieved from the store it was kept within.

Gintoki hated his brain sometimes. He hated how it loved to trick him and taunt him, bring back things he yearned to ignore and send his whole body into spasm with fear at times. He loathed how for once his imagination was crystal clear and he despised the memory of Hijikata reaching realisation, pinned beneath him because it was in startling high definition. That realisation of betrayal seemed to repeat over and over, the flash of shock in bright blue eyes. The twinge of hurt. The smidgen of fear. It came back again and again, because apparently once wasn't enough. Apparently, the jolt of physical pain in his features as Gintoki fought to keep him still wasn't something he was allowed to forget either. They fought for the second time, the reality much faster, much more of a blur. His reflection of the events now was slower, allowing him to absorb every emotion and every look of confusion that Hijikata showed. Gintoki couldn't look at him because Hijikata was trying frantically to make eye contact, trying to understand. He was giving Gintoki a chance to redeem himself, even whilst violently pinned. He was asking, why?

Gintoki couldn't tell him. He hadn't fixed the pieces together yet himself. 

The arrival of the amanto sent things spiralling even further into darkness. Hijikata became desperate. Fear wasn't a word that was associated with him but there was very real panic in that moment because he was trapped and confused and the worst thing was that he still trusted Gintoki. There was doubt in his actions because maybe he should go along with this? He was looking for reasons. All of a sudden, however, he gave up on reason.

Gintoki was more than winded. As his victim scrambled away he could only fumble for a leg between wheezed breaths. But he knew that there was no getting away for Hijikata anyway. He knew because he had planned this. There was no escape. 

The first shot went cleanly into one thigh and it wasn't long until Hijikata was stumbling. Gintoki hated himself for taking a breath of relief. The sooner Hijikata stopped struggling, the better. He fought against the drugs like a damn horse and surely no human could withstand the potency that was injected into him. Even as he fell, he was scrambling to get his feet under him and all the while, he was trying to look up at Gintoki. His eyes began to glaze over but there was a shimmer of disbelief in his expression. Amanto were nailing him to the floor. Gintoki felt sick when Hijikata rolled over, limbs dropping and his eyes tipping back into his head.

With a gasp, Gintoki awoke and although the dream had ended, the pain in his arm and chest still remained to bring him back to reality. He remembered where he was and his mental tally of how many days had probably passed. Hijikata was asleep on the floor beside him, twisted at an uncomfortable angle but then again, all positions were uncomfortable on concrete. He took this opportunity to reach into his yukata, and then further into his underwear, removing a small communication device which had been missed when their bodies were searched for weaponry. Checking Hijikata was definitely asleep, he moved to switch on the device and waited as the stamp sized screen flickered into life. There were still no messages on the screen. The device had the capability to display short messages sent from its partner device elsewhere, but it couldn't send any. It was simply a screen small enough to sneak into some tight boxers and durable enough to be sat on a few times by accident (as had happened).

Hurry it up, old man. Gintoki thought, cursing said man for his tardiness. He was only waiting for one message, one signal. Once that appeared, his plan could begin. The wrongs could right themselves and life could go back to normal. They had no time, though. The ship would leave soon and before it did, their fates would be sealed. They'd be sold or killed, or one then the other. He was sure that Adachi would wait right up until the last minute to sell them. That way, he could ensure the highest price. He might even refuse to sell them on earth and head out with them on board, which would well and truly fuck up his plans. But if Gintoki knew Adachi, and he was fairly certain he did, then this whole thing would be over soon. He was relying on one person doing what he expected, well, two actually. Maybe even three. Three people he hoped he knew well enough to do as he had planned or near enough which would give him leverage for his escape. 

The device was returned to his pants and Gintoki set about counting the cracks on the walls, wishing time by. Kagura and Shinpachi were still in danger and there was nothing he could do until the message arrived. They were good kids; they could look after themselves. But he knew that they would come after him and that was a problem that could send his plans into chaos. He had tried his best to erase all traces for them to follow … there was no use in worrying now. Worrying wouldn't help the situation. He just had to wait it out.

…

Thousands of miles away a loud, obnoxious laugh resounded through an aircraft, followed by sounds of gipping which made the passengers both want to turn around to give a passive aggressive glare at whoever was making so much noise, but also not. The space shuttle was just passing through the outer stratosphere of the earth on its way to Edo. Amanto and humankind alike were just glad to be close to the end of what had been a traumatic journey. It usually took around 5 hours, but something to do with an asteroid redirecting into the flight path caused a diversion. It couldn’t have happened on a worse flight, either. The passengers didn’t have to put up with the usual screaming child or even a toddler kicking the seat. No, instead they had the most irritating fellow passenger the universe had ever known, who took both to using the phone loudly, and to laughing loud enough to rattle the framing in the window glass. Not only that, it turned out he was also air-sick. However, the man somehow managed to remain jovial in between throwing up his guts into a paper bag.

The whole aircraft had been informed that he was meeting someone in Edo called Mutsu, who was also the person on the other end of the phone who seemed just as fed up with him as the crewman who kept reminding him to keep his voice down. The man further referenced somebody with a crude nickname who he would go to visit on earth. The final discussion the man had over the phone before he hung up featured a man called Takasugi Shinsuke (a name recognised profoundly by the majority), a business transaction he was involved in and some illegal trafficking on earth which had the craft wondering if the man was deluded as well as a moron.

Touch down wouldn’t come any sooner for the passengers, no matter how much they bribed the captain.

…

“What could those two idiots be up to?” Otose grumbled, resting two glasses down in front of her adolescent guests, both filled with tea. She placed two more glasses down before her other guests containing their favourite alcohol. Shimura Otae and Kondo Isao (who had been discovered earlier following the former) both took a sip.  
“It's not like Tosshi to disappear without saying anything.” Kondo said, forlorn and depressed by the whole incident. “We've had every single squad out every day looking for hints – nothing. On top of that, Sougo keeps vanishing out on his own missions and he won't tell me what's going on.”

Shinpachi took a sip to hide his frown. Ever since they had gone searching for Gintoki and discovered those following them, Okita had kept quiet. Shinpachi was sure that he was onto something. It was odd that he wasn’t sharing this with anyone. Kagura was down right depressed nowadays. She was worried about Gintoki, they both were, and he knew that she was remembering the same thing he was every night that Gintoki still hadn’t been found – the shivering, pale figure on the hospital bed barely weeks before. It was unlikely that he had fully recovered yet; he probably wasn’t at 100 percent and that was dangerous. If they could just find one hint …

Kondo sighed heavily enough for the five of them. Otae grit her teeth and mumbled some curse at Gintoki and despite how much Otose tried to hide her own discomfort, she found it impossible to fully eradicate the concerned crease in her brow. It was just so odd. Disappearing without a trace? Gintoki never did that. Not any more, anyway, now that he had the kids. There was always something. He was smart enough to leave footprints behind that others could follow … and that he hadn’t could only mean that he didn’t want them to follow. Her eyes cast out of the shop doorway once more as she tried to clear her thoughts. She jerked as a pair of eyes flicked away. The man outside the door and across the street turned his head and walked on by.

Suspicious.

“Tama,” Otose called. “Look after the shop. I'm going out to buy cigs.”

It was so unnatural a movement that Otose felt compelled to follow. The man was obviously looking directly inside at them, at her, and yet when she made eye contact, he didn't know what to do with himself. He could be just another person wanting to vent about a personal problem – Otose handled things like that often. Or …

She wasn’t going to let the chance that this could lead her to Gintoki slip through her fingertips. That man had been caught watching them and he wasn’t about to get away without an explanation.

She shuffled on down the street after him, lighting up another cigarette as an excuse to look preoccupied. He wore standard samurai attire, minus a sword at his hip as per earth’s regulations. A glance over his shoulder gave Otose the confirmation that he was somebody suspicious because he immediately hastened his footsteps and disappeared around the next corner, his hand already reaching into his sleeve for something hidden there. Otose prowled onwards, eyes locked onto the corner of the wall where he had disappeared, determined to stop this man in his tracks and demand answers. Where was Gintoki? What had they done to him?

A tap on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks.  
“Otose-sama, I found some cigarettes under the bar.” Tama tilted her head slightly. “There's no need to buy some more just yet.”   
“I'll go anyway; I need the walk. Get back to the shop.” She was eager to keep going – the distance between them was only growing.  
“There's no need, Otose-sama.” Tama replied, voice calm and deliberate. Otose raised one eyebrow questioningly; Tama nodded.   
“Tell me what's going on, Tama,” she demanded.  
“Please return to the shop, Otose-sama.”  
“You ...” she scowled, “you're not going to tell me? You know where he is, don't you?”  
“Please return to the shop,” Tama repeated once more. 

Tama was smart, Otose knew. She also had more of an idea of what was happening apparently, so she decided that the smartest thing now would be to do as she was asked. It didn’t sit well with her, however. She made it clear that she wasn’t happy letting this go. There was a growing niggle in her stomach that Gintoki had planned this … and she had been kept out of the loop. She was further irritated that she had to wait until her visitors had left until Tama would open her mouth at all.   
“Just tell me he knows what he's doing?” she hissed to Tama as Kondo's loud, enthusiastic conversation drowned out her words. Tama simply apologised and asked her to wait a little longer. In the end, Otose couldn't kick the kids out fast enough. She had allowed them to stay longer for the last few nights, since they were alone. Especially Kagura, who insisted on staying in the apartment until Gintoki returned. They were surprised when Otose was practically pushing them out of the door. She couldn’t ignore all the worst case scenarios rattling around her brain. The instant they were gone, Otose turned with one lowered brow to Tama.

“Gintoki-sama and Hijikata-san were taken by the organisation who staged the siege of the shopping centre.” Tama began, and the look of dismay Otose gave her was the indication that maybe she hadn't sounded as consoling as she had meant to.  
“... What?”  
“He has a device created by Master Gengai, so do not worry. I cannot tell you of the details, however Otose-sama, you must not investigate. It will put them in danger.”  
“And how the heck does he imagine he is going to escape, that damn moron?”  
“All he mentioned to me was one name.” Tama replied, and already Otose knew that it wasn’t going to be good news.  
“Who?”  
“Takasugi Shinsuke.”

…

The click of the door unlocking seemed to wake Hijikata from his sleep. Gintoki refrained from tutting emphatically. Trust him to snap awake at the quiet unhinging of the door, and not the ten minutes Gintoki had spent shouting at him in boredom. He pushed onto his hands and knees, hand twitching by his side with nothing to grasp. Gintoki, on the other hand, remained relaxed on the floor nestling his injured hand in his lap. Whilst Hijikata had been asleep, he had tottered around to relieve his tired legs and even stretched off a little. It was the most exercise he had done in days. They were cooped up with little room to move in, no where to sit and absolutely nothing to do. It had been Gintoki's version of hell and thus Hijikata had suffered the incessant complaining and nagging from one bored sugar addict. On the other hand, Gintoki had to calm the latter during his nicotine withdrawal kicks. All in all, Gintoki couldn't tell if it was just wishful thinking that he believed they didn't have long left until D-day.

Although, entrance of Villain A suggested that he might be right.

“Long time no see~” he cooed. “Have you enjoyed your stay?” They had not seen Adachi, nor many other human beings, since the first customers had visited many days ago. The occasional amanto had been shown into the room to gawk at them like animals in a zoo. Jeering had occurred, some prodding and a lot of cussing from Hijikata. There had been no such incidents like the first, however. Gintoki wasn't about to jump up and start a fight. Out of the two of them, Hijikata had the shortest wick and he spent each visit growling in a corner, the injured hand of Gintoki serving as a warning to any future escape attempts. He was radiating aggression at that moment, too.  
“I wouldn't give it five stars,” Gintoki replied. “Maybe three on tripadvisor.”  
“Well you haven’t got long left, anyway. Your last buyer comes in today and if he doesn't pledge enough for you, we'll be taking you with us into outer space until we find someone who does. People aren't as hung up on revenge for the war as I thought.”  
“Only you, it seems.” Adachi blinked, and his lips peeled back into a grin. Hijikata narrowed his eyes at his silver haired prison-mate.   
“You're sharp.”  
“It's not what most call me.” Gintoki shrugged. “I've just done my research.”  
“Ooh, interesting.” Adachi chuckled. “How scary. Anyway, I think you'll sell for a high price today. My client showed particular interest in you.”  
“What's his name? I'll give him a high five.”  
“He remained anonymous, as most do in this line of work. He signs messages with Ki.” Gintoki snorted. “Well, I only came in to warn you. You'll be wanting to look your best, I'm sure.”  
“I always look my best.”  
“... How unfortunate.” Adachi frowned, and closed the door behind him leaving only the usual tray of food in his wake. Gintoki yelled some sort of nonsensical insult and battered the door, unhappy that not only had he not had the last word, but Adachi had one-upped him in his.

“You fell into that one.” Hijikata muttered, already splitting the petty rations in two. At the start of their entrapment, he had thoroughly examined his meal for poisons etc. whilst Gintoki munched away. After a few days, he went on a hunger strike until Gintoki convinced him that was a stupid idea. After all, they needed all the strength they could get. In the end, Hijikata succumbed to scoffing down whatever was given to him. He had grown tired of caring. He tossed half an apple to Gintoki, who threw it straight back.  
“No way in-”  
“Eat it, for god's sake.” With a grunt, he pelted it back so that it hit the bastard in the face. “It's full of sugar anyway.”  
“Different type of sugar!” Gintoki complained, shuffling over on his bum to scavenge through whatever else was there. “I'll be glad to be out of this dingy room tomorrow.”  
“Oh yeah? Well what's to say we aren't just going from one dingy room to another? Or worse?”  
“Because of the plan.”  
“The plan, right,” he scoffed – he had given up on asking what that entailed. “We're doomed.”  
“Not if Ki stands for what I expect. Although I'm not sure they're going to be our saviours.”  
“Who?”  
“The Kiheitai.”  
“Ah, okay.” He nodded once, then twice more. “The fucking Kiheitai.” He cursed in disbelief.  
“Who else would be interested in the shiroyasha and the vice-commander of the shinsengumi?”  
“Takasugi Shinsuke. That Takasugi Shinsuke?! You're not being serious.”  
“I called for a taxi and he was the only one available to pick us up.”  
“Your ex-joui buddy? Doesn't he hate you? I distinctly fucking remember him trying to kill you. And everyone else in the world. He’s a nut-case, Gintoki. We are not trusting him to help us escape. And I'm a policeman! I can't conspire with a convict!”   
“You already are. Shiroyasha, remember? Stay here then and be Mr Justice,” said Gintoki, shrugging his shoulders and beginning to pick his nose. “Takasugi is expecting us. Though we can't make any moves until I get the signal.”  
“From who?” Hijikata whacked his hand away, face crunched in disgust. “What signal? How?”  
“You ask too many questions!” Gintoki whined, covering his ears. “I've had enough, let's just sleep until tomorrow.”

Gintoki curled up into a ball and refused any more questions, despite the fact that Hijikata had enough to keep him going all night. Gintoki took to humming a tune once boredom set in, tapping his fingers against the floor along with the made up rhythm. There was a certain tenseness in the room, one that Hijikata could feel the pulse of in the air with Gintoki as the thumping heart of it. Who knew what could happen tomorrow. Gintoki's kids were still technically hostages. They had to escape but also ensure that everyone he cared for remained safe – that was the plan, he guessed. How Gintoki intended to do so, especially using Takasugi, Hijikata had no idea. And he didn't think it would be easy.

…

Kagura awoke feeling unrested. She rubbed at her weary eyes, scrambling out of Gintoki's sheets where she had taken to sleeping these past few days. Last night, she had slept in the apartment, even though Otae had pleaded with her to come back with them. Because of her stubbornness, Shinpachi had crammed himself into the cupboard to sleep, just so that she wouldn’t be alone. This is where Gintoki would return, so this is where she would stay. She felt angry, but she didn’t know where to direct that anger. The permed bastard had left them without warning – they were a team! They didn’t work alone any more. Yet, she worried incessantly for him because as strong as she imagined him to be, he was only human and there were forces out there powerful enough to bring even Sakata Gintoki to his knees. She had found that out only recently. 

She felt her eyes sting. 

“Gin-chan ...” she murmured into the silence of the apartment. “Where are you?”

A crash at the door had her scrambling across the tatami, feet barely touching the floor as she sprinted to the source of the noise. She heard Shinpachi awakening, too, but he was too slow and she wasn't stopping for anybody.

The door began to open and the crack of light cast a shadow of a permed individual onto the floor. She skidded to a halt and threw the door open wide. She was met by a grin that made her heart sink, sink into the floorboards.

“Hello!~” Sakamoto Tatsuma laughed heartily. Water spilled onto her cheek but she quickly scrubbed it with her sleeve. Kagura slammed the door in his face unceremoniously and left a stammering Shinpachi to pick up where she abruptly left off. “I've come to take you away.” The laughing man grinned, stopping Kagura in her tracks.


	7. Throwing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know you too well ... Goodnight.

The Author Admits This Has Become Just An Intense Sleepover Party

 

“Would you rather be trapped in a room with Sougo or Kagura?” Gintoki asked. It was the first sentence that had passed between them in about an hour. Gintoki had been scratching pictures into the wall using the metal edge of his belt. He wiped down the corner with his thumb and rolled onto his back, masterpiece complete. Hijikata stopped exercising, resting his knees on the floor from the push ups he had been doing.  
“Sougo.”  
“Hmm?” Gintoki murmured. “Interesting.” Hijikata wasn't one for small talk or verbal games, but anything was better than the silence they had suffered. Boredom wasn't even the word. He was a heartbeat away from chewing his nails to shreds and banging his head on the concrete floor.  
“Would you rather eat dog poo flavoured mayonnaise or mayonnaise flavoured dog poo?”  
“Dog poo flavoured mayonnaise, obviously. Mayo all the way.”  
“But it wouldn't taste of mayonnaise?”  
“As long as it hasn't passed through a dog's anus, I don't really care.” He had a point. “Would you rather eat only parfaits for the rest of your life, or never eat a parfait again?”  
“You know my answer. Would you rather date Kondou or a Gorilla?”  
“What's the difference?”   
“Ooh,” Gintoki wiggled his eyebrows. “Vice commander has a sense of humour.”  
“Would you date the Shimura girl or that blonde woman?”  
“Tsukki? … Hmmm. Either way, my lifespan would be considerably shortened. Tsukki, so that I wouldn't have to deal with your gorilla or Pattsuan. Would you rather do it with a man or a woman?” Hijikata nearly choked on air.  
“What?!”  
“Come on, we were heading that way anyway. Let's skip the tame, boring questions and get straight to the interesting bit.”  
“W-w-w... well you answer first.”  
“Fine, then. I like either. Gin-san doesn't discriminate.”  
“I, uh, I've … never done it with a man. So I ... don't know.”   
“Hmm. Would you rather be kissed on the mouth or the neck?” Hijikata flushed bright red. He wasn't used to any sort of intimacy with anyone. These were not answers he shared with even himself because he didn't allow himself the time to think about it. He worked – work was his passion. Looking into Gintoki's expecting eyes made him nervous. His lips were cocked into a slight smirk. He rested on his left side and cradled his face with the palm of his left hand. His bangs fell into his eyes which glinted with mischief. He licked his lips and suddenly there was a rush of blood in Hijikata to a zone other than his face. Instantly, he leapt to his feet and paced around.

“S-stop it. We're not discussing this.”  
“Why not? There's nothing else to do?” Gintoki shrugged and Hijikata made the mistake of looking over to him again. He could feel himself being persuaded by the tug of curiosity within him that wanted to know the answers to these questions for Gintoki. He wanted to know what made him tick … and why he was looking at him that way.  
“What about you then?”  
“Hmmm … it's a secret.”  
“What?!” Hijikata spluttered.  
“Sit down. Stop pacing, you're making me dizzy.” Hijikata obeyed because the odd sensation had faded. He sat just short of Gintoki, legs folded. “You're sweating.”  
“I was exercising whilst you were doodling.”  
“I was watching.”  
“Creep.”  
“Who do you think would win out of the two of us in an arm wrestle?” Gintoki asked curiously but Hijikata scoffed at him.  
“I wouldn't lose to a lazy shit like you.”  
“Try me.”

They had to call it a draw in the end. Neither had a hold over the other and it had been two whole minutes of lactic acid building in the struggle. Gintoki had to count them down so that they both let go at once and neither cheated. They still didn’t trust the other to let go, so in the end there had been three count downs.

“I can't believe how strong you are when you do fuck all.”  
“Ooh,” Gintoki cooed. “Was that a compliment from the vice-commander?”  
“Obviously not, don't fool yourself.” Hijikata remembered something, and since they had nothing better to talk about, he brought it up. “What did you and Kagura argue about that day?”  
“What day?”  
“You know which day.”  
“We argue all the time. Over sweets, the TV, sweets, food, sweets-”  
“I get the idea, now stop changing the subject.”

It seemed like Gintoki was going to continue his incredible skill of getting away with hiding things and diverting conversation stems, but instead he went quiet. His lips fell shut. A pensive expression edged into his features. It was beginning to creep Hijikata out.

“I just really...” He sighed. His head dropped forwards a little. “I really wanted to see Ketsuno Ana live.”

He should have known. He _really_ should have known. And god knows he should be this pissed off. If ever Hijikata strayed near something that required a serious answer, he passed it off effortlessly and turned the situation on its head. If he hadn’t have become wise to his ways, Hijikata would have let him. He would have raged about how much of an idiot the perm was. He would have believed him. Not this time. He was learning. He was understanding the way this man thought, and it was nowhere near as simple as he had first believed. The guy was constantly avoiding things, but he was chatty enough for people not to notice. He was so natural. A natural liar.

“Did you upset her?” Hijikata pressed, indulging in the slight surprise on Gintoki's face as his comment was brushed off.  
Gintoki shrugged passively, “Kinda.”  
“And why-” Hijikata was about to ask why Gintoki had smoked that time, and about what he had said, but there was a vibrating noise coming from Gintoki's crotch that posed too great a distraction to ignore. A hug grin erupted over Gintoki's face and he exclaimed, “A-ha!”, reaching into his undergarments whilst Hijikata watched on, slack jawed.

The tiny device he removed displayed a message too small for Hijikata to read in the split second he saw it, but whatever it said, Gintoki was beaming.

“Time to fuck shit up.” He said.

* * *

 

Sakamoto had two out of three of the yorozuya sat before him, a few shinsengumi and the odd civilian. There was simply one connection between these seemingly random people, and that connection had just received a message detailing one word only – _safe_.

Which, hopefully, they were, but they weren't out of the waters yet. Aside from that, the greatest threat right now was the combined death glare being beamed his way. A grumpy kid, a scary woman and a scornful grandma made a terrible combination in such a small room on his giant spaceship. It was making him feel qu-

Once he finished throwing his guts up, Sakamoto began the long awaited explanation.

“So, ahh,” he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, “yer all safe now, ahahaha.” A pair of hands grasped at his collar.  
“You bastard, who do you think you are, ahh~? And why are we on this ship? You better spit it out quick or I'll feed those sunglasses through your nostrils.”  
“Calm down, Otae-chan,” the shinsengumi captain said in vain, smiling broadly. She shifted her demon eyes onto him and he backed down quickly. “But she's right; who are you?”  
“Kintoki asked me teh keep you safe (for a price). Yer've all been under threat since Kintoki was taken – hostages, in a way. But thanks to the King of Covert Op's pre-conceived plan, yer all safe on my sh-blleeehh-”  
“Where is Gin-chan?” Kagura demanded.  
Mutsu appeared from the shadows. “He was captured by those who staged the terrorist attack on the shopping centre, the same people behind the scenes of the government scandal not too long ago. The shinsengumi vice-commander is there too.”  
“Hang on,” Kondo frowned, “What does Tosshi have to do with any of this?”  
“This seems to be somethin' that the shiroyasha has figured out fer himself. We're not certain, but I'm sure many people would be afteh' the shiroyasha's head, and even more for the vice-commander's. Teh question is, who'd be after both? Who would have a grudge against the government _and_ the rebels?”  
“How do we save them?” Shinpachi asked.  
“Yer don't. Sit tight and be saved fer now. Kintoki has a plan and yer lot could step in and ruin it.”  
“A plan?”  
“Of course there'd be a plan! It's Kintoki we're talking about.” Sakamoto laughed heartily. “That's why yer on my ship. Now Kintoki can move freely. Who do you think would be the first in line to buy those two idiots, hm?”  
“I can think of a few hundred,” Sougo piped up but was shunned by Kondo's worried admonishment.   
“Who?” He asked.  
“Well, there's a certain jouishishi extremist group that aren't fond of you shinsengumi folk.” Sakamoto then lowered his head so that he peered over his glasses. “And a particular commander that has a connection to the shiroyasha.”  
“Kiheitai!” Shinpachi exclaimed, piecing the parts together quicker than the rest of them. Kondo shot him a surprised glance.  
“Really? So Kintoki- I mean, Sakata-san and Tosshi are being sold to the Kiheitai? Isn't that bad?”   
Sougo hummed, “He'll be betting on that transference.” All eyes turned on him. “The most dangerous part of a transaction is when you take them from one cell to another. And if it's the Kiheitai, they likely won't kill them first, right?”  
“Probably,” Sakamoto nodded. “Kintoki is betting on the Kiheitai being the highest bidder. Then they'll escape during the transference.”  
Otae wasn't convinced and offered a consoling hand to Kagura's shoulder. “What if the Kiheitai don't buy them?”  
“Well,” Sakamoto paced the floor, the click of his shoes resonating through the concentrated silence between them. “Then there's two scenarios.” His footsteps added to the tension held within that pause. “There's a transferral and all goes ahead as normal. Or …”  
“They're killed on the spot without leaving their cell.” Sougo finished. Otae gasped aloud, covering her mouth with her hands.  
“'sactly. But likely those two have practical use. More people'll want em' alive.”  
Sougo snorted, “you hope.”  
“And now that we're all caught up an' happy, we wait for part two.” Sakamoto smiled, showing his teeth. “I wish those two would get over their petty fight and just make up.” He sighed almost to himself.

* * *

 

Gintoki was left with a few bruises once he finished explaining their next steps to Hijikata.  
“Your whole plan bets on us kicking the asses of the guards that hold us when that extremist bastard takes us aboard his ship?” Hijikata pounded the wall with his fist, exasperated. “You've been beaten to a sopping mess and I'm not in top form. The Kiheitai have Yato on their side – Yato. And worse. Surely you know that this is a suicide mission?”  
“Now, now. Calm down. Of course I'm not that stupid. And we both wouldn't be injured if it wasn't for one hot-headed policeman.”  
“Don't you dare blame this on me-”  
“I'm not. Look, I've a few things handy to help us out.”  
“If it isn't a nuclear bomb, I'm not convinced.” Hijikata snorted, folding his arms. Gintoki reached his hand into his boxers and rummaged around.  
“Da-daa!” He cried, presenting tiny snot-like balls of some blue substance. “Space dynamite!” Hijikata eyed them suspiciously. “We blow stuff up.”  
“You're an imbecile, don't you know?” He sighed. “And if you blow your own balls up, it's entirely your own fault.”

Gintoki stuffed them back into their hiding place. He was smiling to himself making content mutters under his breath. Hijikata noticed his strong jawline and high cheek bones. He let his eyes wander down the triangular expanse of his back from broad shoulders to narrow hips. He saw the lines of his tight black top and imagined the muscle beneath, looked at where the sleeve hem dug slightly into his biceps … there was no doubt about it. Gintoki was strong, bursting with testosterone. Even the slight twitch of his hand each time there was a creak in the room showed Hijikata just how in tune he was with the world; he believed that to be a mental scar from the war he fought at such a young age. Hijikata knew him to be a reckless but powerful swordsman, more of a slayer than a killer because of just how rampant and aggressive his fighting style had developed to be. But despite the strong mould for a samurai that stood before him, Gintoki was sweating. He was cold, evident from the tremors he couldn't remove from his hands and the goosebumps erupting over his skin. He couldn't sit still, but his movements were jarred.

As well as he tried to hide it, he was in no position for fighting. The reason he didn't seem aware of this himself? He'd probably fought in worse states. It was something that Hijikata had rarely known himself. If there was a fight to be done, it was planned and conducted with purpose. Each member of the team was selected and positioned, every move a pre-conceived map they had devised. Never would a wounded soldier be taken out on a dangerous mission – it was unheard of. There were no such rules to war. You fought or you died, and Hijikata had been fortunate enough to avoid such an environment. He knew fighting through pain, he understood that adrenaline rush to power on … this was another matter entirely. Who knew what was fuelling Gintoki to ignore his injuries? Whatever it was had to be a strong psychological drug to help him forget about the bullet wound to his chest, the crisping blood on his battered wrist and god knows what other wounds he had picked up.

When Hijikata realised he was worried, he started. This was different. This was new. Why was he so concerned with Gintoki's state? Of course, he had never wanted the idiot to die or anything but … why was something burning inside of him to stand in front of Gintoki? He felt compelled to stand between Gintoki and the door, to plan an attack with the man safely behind his back … He wanted to protect him from harm.

It was a hard notion to understand. The closest he could relate it to was his feelings for Kondou and he had no need to say aloud that he would take any amount of bullets for his commander. What about Gintoki? What did that make him? He was special, that was for sure. He couldn’t call him a friend, nor a comrade. Not any more. Something between them had changed - at least on his side of the equation. He glanced back over to Gintoki once more who was picking stones out of the soles of his boots with fervent concentration.

All of a sudden, there was a click of the door. Gintoki rapidly looked up and nodded to Hijikata. It was time. A ball of doubt churned in Hijikata's stomach as he closed in on Gintoki's side, drawing close. The door groaned open. A voice floated through the gap as the door remained no more than a fist's width open. One look at the man by his side told him that the voice was familiar.  
“I've come to pick you up, Gintoki,” the voice said.  
“I thought my offer would appeal to you,” he shrugged in reply, but there was a niggle of confusion tugging at his frown. Hijikata could feel it because he was thinking the same. The door... why wasn't it opening?  
“Indeed, to think I would come to possess the commander of the shinsengumi so easily.” He laughed. “Though, you have underestimated me, Gintoki.” Hijikata placed himself a pace in front of Gintoki, braced to move. Something was coming. “How long have I known you?”  
“Too long.” The man laughed once more and he just oozed relaxation and calmness.   
“I know your way of doing things.” Just then, a metallic clank sounded as a ball rolled into the chamber. Hijikata's hand was on Gintoki's chest, pushing him backwards, distancing him from the unknown object. “Gintoki … I know you too well. Goodnight.”

The door sealed shut and the horror on Gintoki's face told Hijikata that he knew what was about to happen and it was not good. His own realisation came seconds later as steam began to pour out of the device in an icy cloud. He backed up and pushed Gintoki with him, but Gintoki was busy doing something else. He scrambled for the devices and threw them at the door. One, two, three of them. They collided with a soft thud and a second later, they exploded. The sound was deafening, despite their small size but Hijikata was already choking on something else. The explosives had been strong, but not strong enough to do more than dent the metal door. They were still trapped with the device still pouring white mist into the room. Hijikata began to cough and it felt like sandpaper was in his mouth, on his tongue, scratching his throat. Hell, even his lungs were on fire. Each breath was coughing up liquid that really shouldn’t be there. His eyes stung like there was acid on his retinas. All of a sudden, a white sheet wrapped itself around his face with a flash of blue and it took a moment before he realised what it was. The yukata did not eradicate the pain but he felt less like he was breathing in pure fire. Gintoki though! He fought his arms out of the cloth to find him. He caught onto one hand, the one pressing the sheet to his face, and grasped it. The energy in his legs drained away, lack of oxygen, but there was something behind him helping him to stand. The wheezing was getting worse, the mist was still thick in the air and his consciousness was slipping away from him. He didn’t have the capacity to figure out if this was a deadly poison or sleeping gas. Either way, he certainly _felt_ like he was dying.

Was this it? Was this fucking _it_?

The sturdy weight behind him faltered, then dropped away and there was no longer a force keeping him upright. He was only thankful that he didn't think he'd be conscious when he hit the solid concrete floor.

* * *

 

Gintoki had a throbbing headache. If it weren't for the numbness in his arms, he would have willed himself back into dreamland. Throb, throb. Like someone was hitting the back of his eyes with a stick. A big stick. He had to move, though. If he didn't, he felt like he'd lose his hands from the blood loss that was tingling through his fingers. He stirred with a groan, shifting his wrists but there was a clank and his mobility was halted. He frowned, sleepily, blinking awake. _Clank_. His hands were stuck.   
It was with a jolt that he came back to his senses and realised he was handcuffed. His hands were pulled uncomfortably behind him and round a pole that jutted out from floor to ceiling, essentially locking him to the small circle of space around the bottom. He couldn't do much more than stand and sit, unless he wanted to rip one of his hands off.  
His face paled quickly – he felt the blood drain from him – and the only warning he got was a small gip before he was retching all over the floor. He was throwing up no more than water, but most of what he was coughing seemed to come from his lungs. Not good.

“T-Takasugi,” he grunted. Whatever had been in that gas was _nasty_ , the bastard had a lot to answer for. “Hijikata!” Gintoki staggered to his feet and took his first good look around. He seemed to be in some kind of storage room. There were boxes, crates and loose objects piled high at every angle around him. The room was large, maybe half a football pitch, and from what he could see strips of box-less corridors had been created for access out of his sight. He was in the centre of the room with a good view of the door. “Hijikata!” He repeated, loudy.

He was alone and this was definitely not the outcome he had predicted. He had been read like a book and because of his stupidity, Hijikata could be anywhere on this ship – of course it was a ship. This was Takasugi's ship and he was in the container section right in its belly. God knows where Hijikata was and though Gintoki knew that he himself was safe, the same couldn't be said for his friend. He knew Takasugi well and he wouldn't hurt Gintoki. There was more to their relationship than any simple revenge. In fact, if it were just him being sold, the Kiheitai wouldn't have shown a shred of interest. The reason he was here was because Takasugi wanted to watch the world burn, and Hijikata was his tool to do so.

Gintoki couldn't help but feel nauseated all over again.

What had he done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is heeeeeeere~  
> Length has been capped because I am a busy girl and this suits my normal style more anyway. B)


	8. Swinging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I prefer silver.

When Life Gives You Lemons, Make a Beyonce Album

 

 _These shapes … they were foreign to Hijikata. His fingers followed them on the page but the more he squinted, the less they made sense to him._  
_“Gold,” Tamegoro held his finger steady at one of the squiggles. “This means gold.” He tilted his head to Hijikata, trying to gauge if he understood. Little lip protruding slightly, Hijikata shuffled on his knees to get more comfortable in front of the paper._  
_“I've seen this before.” Hijikata traced the lines carefully._  
_“It's used a lot.” Tamegoro reached for a brush and began scribing other jumbles of lines on the page. He pointed to each in turn. “With this, it's money. With this one, it's metal.”_  
_“Then what's that?”_  
_“That shows it's a colour. Gold colour. Here, try copying.” Tamegoro handed him the brush and tried to stop smiling when Hijikata's face contorted in pure concentration. The lines were sloppy and written in entirely the wrong order, but it was a start. “Like this,” he said, showing him again. They filled the entire page with two sets of the same kanji – one set neatly inscribed, the other a messy imitation. Still, Hijikata appeared confused._  
_“I thought I'd seen it before … but it's different.” He persevered copying, as though the answer would become clearer with his handwriting. He was always such an earnest, hard-working kid._  
_“Where have you seen it?”_  
_“Hmm... that new building in town.”_  
_“Ahh,” Tamegoro tilted his head as he recalled. “That's this, right?” With a few flicks of a brush, a new kanji appeared on the page and Hijikata's face brightened._  
_“That one!” He nodded._  
_“The bank.” Tamegoro explained, writing the hiragana beneath so that Hijikata could see._  
_“What's a bank?”_  
_“Something the new government is bringing in. It's to do with economics, uhh, money.”_  
_“Then why is it not this kanji,” Hijikata pointed to gold. “What makes it different? If it's to do with money ...”_  
_“For this, we use silver.” Another kanji was re-drawn, similar to the first but narrower and with the addition of more squiggles._  
_“Silver?”_  
_“Yes. So this is gold.” Tamegoro added a character. “When you add this, it's money.” On a new line, he scribbled the new kanji. “This is silver, similar to the first one.” He added one more piece. “And with this, silver becomes bank.” Hijikata's expression became blank._  
_“... I don't like this.” He pouted. “Why do we need to know these?” Tamegoro let out a hearty laugh, ruffling Hijikata's hair fondly._  
_“Who knows. But I think gold is a nice kanji. It looks elegant – symmetrical.” No matter how much he looked, Hijikata couldn’t see it. He flicked his eyes between the characters again._  
_“I prefer silver.” He said. “It's more fun to write.”_

* * *

 

Hijikata opened his eyes and blinked steadily. Why had he recalled that all of a sudden? Something so long ago that he had believed it forgotten … times with Tamegoro that he held so precious … His mind worked in strange ways.  
The pain that swelled in his forehead convinced him that his pleasant dream had been a desperate attempt to take his mind off the unbearable throbbing in his brain. It felt like someone was smashing his skull from the inside. His heart raced into life as he sat up and analysed his situation. Gintoki wasn’t there – that was the first thing that came to mind. He was alone and in a cell. It was a proper cell this time, not some back room re-decorated for use. Across from him were the impenetrable metal bars of other cell mates which, as far as he could see, each had someone inside. He recognised one of the faces immediately, the face of the governor Okita's squad had protected a few weeks previously. He hadn’t even known the man had gone missing, yet here he was.

“Tanaka-san,” he said, sitting up. His whole body was sore from sleeping on a frozen concrete floor, so it was a struggle to pull his legs under him.  
“Who...? Are you the vice-commander?” the man replied. He was two cells down on the opposite side. The cells were narrow enough to be able to touch with both hands, and deep enough for Hijikata to be able to see the back of at least five other cells.  
“How did you get in here?”  
“Your stupid bunch of apes were supposed to be guarding me. I hope you take responsibility for this farce. Get me out of here.” Hijikata laughed from his belly.  
“Does it look like I'm in any position to be playing rescue with you, princess? Where's the man with silver hair?”  
“Who?”  
“When I came in here, was there someone else too?”  
“No, there wasn't.” The official frowned. Hijikata cursed, but he had expected that. However, he didn’t know Takasugi enough to predict his next move. Would he kill Gintoki? He was on his own now – things had become so fucked up. But, despite all that, he had to concentrate and switch on his soldier side. Ignore Gintoki for now, plan. Gather information.  
“Tell me everything.” Hijikata ordered.  
“What's there to tell, you fool? Can't you see from your situation? We're all going to be executed. That bastard is trying to destroy the shogunate. Look around – everyone in here is connected to the shogunate.” Indeed, it seemed that these cells were filled with joui enemies, including himself. He stretched his legs in front of him and let his joints click. He had to find a way out of there, that was his first priority. Surely, Gintoki would be thinking along similar lines wherever he was.

So first, he observed. Metal bars, definitely no way out of these. They were well designed – floor to ceiling, narrow and strong. He’d been in cells before where a good kick could dislodge a pipe or two, and an even better one would break the flimsy padlock. Nothing of the sort was going to be happening here. He tested them, wriggling each bar with a few tugs but they barely moved. The inside of the cell had not a vent, a socket or a crack – smooth concrete on all sides. A few taps and he knew it was solid. Why the hell would a ship need a prison? Especially one as well-made as this? Takasugi had teamed up with the harusame and Hijikata briefly wondered if this was their ship, but betted on it belonging to the terrorist instead. He was far more likely than a bunch of space pirates to have such a high quality ship.

He concluded that he had to get allowed out of the cell in order to do anything. It was likely that the end of the cell had another locked door, so even if he got out, he’d need to pass through that. Some ships even had electric passes to open any door. He needed to figure out what they were using – old fashioned keys or a smart pass. Possibly, even fingerprinting or the like. If it was a simple pass or key, he could obtain one from one of the guards. But what then? He's out in the ship. They'll realise soon enough and he'll be on CCTV from the very moment he steps out of his cell. Where were the blind spots of a ship? And even then, he'd have to stage a feud on the whole crew … he couldn't fly ships either. Then, would he have to wait until they landed? That could easily be too late.

He sighed into his hands. Things had gotten complicated and dangerous. On top of that … Gintoki, was he safe?

* * *

 

“Sakamoto,” Takasugi drawled into the microphone as the face of said person popped up onto the vast screen before him. “When you said there was a good trade I'd want to get a hand in, I had higher expectations.”  
“Ha ha ha, what's wrong? D'ya not like the vice-commander?”  
“The vice-commander fills my collection quite nicely, but it seems I've picked up some trash along the way.”  
“Ha ha ha ha ha.”  
“And may I ask … what were your ships doing near mine during the change over?”  
“Ah, so you spotted me. Woopsy. I was just observin'.”  
“By any chance, you weren't trying to interfere, were you?”  
“I wouldn'ta told ya about that trade deal if I were goin' to stop it. No, I wasn't interested in yer fleet.”  
“Adachi's?”  
“Yup.” Sakamoto laughed so hard his glasses fell down his nose and he floundered to correct them. Takasugi didn’t really know why he was laughing, but then he usually didn’t.  
“What would you want with Adachi?”  
“I'm sure you've noticed anyway. I'm thinkin' of expanding my fleet a little more and Adachi seems to be storing a bunch'a people on board I could use. I sent him a reasonable offer, but he refused it.”  
“If you're talking about the human trafficking operation he's running then of course he isn't going to sell you his products. I'm surprised he hasn't come after your head for asking.”  
“Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha! Well, enough about that. What are you doing with those two?”  
“I haven't decided what I'm doing with that idiot yet. I'll probably just drop him off on some planet. How the hell did he get involved with the shinsengumi, of all people? And Adachi, too? Really, the shiroyasha has changed.”  
“You know he's always been one to attract people.” Sakamoto shrugged and just behind him, Mutsu appeared in the shot. She whispered something in his ear.  
“Hmph.” Takasugi prepared to close the connection, but Sakamoto stopped him.  
“I didn't get you involved in this just for yer own benefit.” He cocked his head and grinned. Takasugi's finger hovered over the 'end' button and he began to frown.  
“I figured so. But what's stopping me from hanging up now?”  
“Because ya know that my offers are usually pretty good.”  
“... That's debatable,” he said, but he could already feel the buzz in his fingertips telling him this would be interesting. In fact, from the moment Sakamoto had gotten in contact with him several weeks ago, he had known that he was getting into something big. He wouldn't have played along if that wasn't the case.  
“Well,” Sakamoto beckoned Mutsu and muttered something back to her. After a brief discussion, she disappeared and Sakamoto returned his attention to Takasugi. “Help me liberate the slaves on Adachi's fleet and stop the human trafficking. If ya do, I'll give ya Adachi.” He offered his hand towards the monitor as Takasugi broke into laughter.  
“You know far too much,” he shook his head in disbelief. “How did you know I was after him?”  
“You're tied, ain't ya?”  
“If I destroyed Adachi's fleet, then my connection with harusame would sour. I've been trying to take him down covertly until now.”  
“Uh-huh. But if you work under my name, then the problem's solved, right?”  
“I can't see why you needed me to capture those two.”  
“Ah, those fools,” Sakamoto giggled, “I needed teh watch one of the transactions happenin'.”  
“And...?”  
“You see straight through me,” he bared his teeth happily, “If you collaborate with me, my condition is that you set those two free.”  
“And how does that benefit you?”  
“Kintoki asked me a favour,” he replied nonchalantly. “And if the lost souls on Adachi's fleet don't have anywhere to return to, they can join my men.”  
“Is this just a massive recruitment operation?” Takasugi snorted.  
“Maybe. Well, whaddya say?”

 

* * *

The room spun quickly to the left and Gintoki jolted with it. His tied hands restricted him from falling over. The temperature in his body dived downwards into icy domains and a shiver began to rattle his bones to the point where he was making himself feel seasick. He felt his head roll right this time and bile swirled in his stomach and was suddenly racing upwards for relief. He threw up all over the floor and a lot splashed back onto his clothes. Temporarily, the sickness was gone, but then it returned just as strong as before and he was reeling again. He knew what this was. The burning in his hand told him it was infected. It was pulsating like it had its own heartbeat and ached enough to make it unbearable. Again, his head swirled in circles. He was choking up no more than water now and it _burned_. It hurt, scratched, stung inside. He couldn't keep his head lifted to look at the person who had just entered the room. When he heard the voice, he didn't need to.

“I'm shocked,” Takasugi said. The shadow of his feet appeared before Gintoki. “The old you wouldn't have gotten into this mess.”  
“Ta... sugi … bas-...tard.” Gintoki hissed, trying not to groan as his stomach heaved again. “Where's … Hijikata?”  
“I wouldn't worry. I came to you with a proposition. Well, most of this was Sakamoto's idea. However … I don't think you're in any state to be fighting with us as planned. What is it, blood loss?” Gintoki couldn't answer. He started panting to catch his breath which escaped through his mouth as hot as steam. As cold as he was, his forehead was on fire. “You don't seem to be losing enough blood for that,” Takasugi hummed and the sound of his feet tapped away from Gintoki. “Ah, infection?” Takasugi stopped behind him. “So that was it.”  
“Where's … he?” He demanded through stilted breaths. His stomach flipped again and then he was choking on his own vomit.  
“You really won't last long like this ...” Takasugi muttered, exhaling through his nose and walking back round to face Gintoki. He knelt to his level so that Gintoki could make eye contact. “I was going to drop you off on some abandoned planet. You'd survive anyway, like some rotten cockroach. But fortunately for you, Sakamoto has offered me a better deal. For that, you need to toughen up. If you die on this ship, I can't guarantee your friend's safety, you hear?”  
“Fuck... you.” He grunted. Takasugi chuckled. He stood up and took a breath through his kiseru, the smoke rising like a python towards the ceiling.  
“You and Sakamoto have a deal that you will get yourselves caught so that he can observe the change-over of goods. Sakamoto wants to stop the human trafficking, you want to remove yourselves from his target list, correct?” Gintoki could barely hear the words Takasugi was saying. He couldn’t concentrate; every word swam through one ear and then tumbled out of the other. “I also want rid of Adachi and since Sakamoto doesn’t have the resources to take him down, he needs my men. For various reasons, Adachi has been a pain in the side for me. If I destroy him overtly, other harusame fleets would come after me. So under Sakamoto's name, I'll get rid of him.” Another puff of smoke danced in the air. “If I cooperate, I have to release you two.”  
“Dn..t. - hm... hahh...” Takasugi noticed Gintoki's swaying a moment before he collapsed on the spot, head hanging into his lap and arms strained uncomfortably around the column binding him. Takasugi jolted forward on instinct but immediately regained himself. He tutted, knowing he had likely been talking to himself for the last few minutes because Gintoki wasn't in any state to be listening. His fever was raging so high that even unconscious, he was shivering violently.

He had no choice but to begin discussions with the vice-commander instead, as much as that irritated him.

* * *

 

  
Sakamoto had been flying the ship for an hour now. He leisurely rolled the craft to the left, avoiding an oncoming meteor, then let the wings settle flat. He heard Shinpachi enter the cockpit and didn’t react, continuing to fly onwards with a content sigh. He felt good. He always did when aboard his ship. Saying that, his stomach lurched a little and he swallowed something that had just attempted to erupt.

“Where are you taking us, Sakamoto-san?” Shinpachi eventually spoke up, causing Sakamoto to glance over his shoulder. Letting out a small hum, he swerved the ship around another space obstacle.  
“Following the ship that Kintoki's on. Fer now, we're keeping an eye on teh situation.”  
“... Are they safe?” Despite Sakamoto insisting they stay put for now, Shinpachi couldn’t get past the anxiety growing deep in his stomach. He had thought Gintoki had thrown away the side of him that felt he could do everything alone.  
“I can't guarantee that. But I can say that they _will_ be. I've promised Kintoki that I'll get all of ya home.”  
“What's in it for you?”  
“Oi oi,” Sakamoto laughed. “I know there's a lot going on between us right now, but Takasugi, Kintoki, Zura and I are good friends, ya know?”  
“That so called 'good friend' has just bought Gin-san and took him off into space.” Shinpachi's tone was drier than the desert, and his body felt just as lifeless right now. He was physically exhausted from worrying. Instead of cheering him up, Sakamoto's laugh only served to worsen his headache.  
“Those two have always liked to bicker.”  
“Bicker?...” His tsukomis wouldn't come to mind. He gave a sigh.  
“You look like you've aged fifty years,” Sakamoto chuckled loudly. “Lighten up, young man. Thing's'll work out somehow.”  
“I don't see why all of this had to happen. Why did Adachi target Gin-san? Why-” Mutsu appeared behind them both and interrupted.  
“There's nothing that can be gained from titivating like this.” She rested a hand on Shinpachi's shoulder to give comfort to him. It was of little help. “Rest up fer now. Yer no good to anyone dog-tired.” With one last glance at the universe before him, Shinpachi huffed deeply and turned towards the door. He half-smiled towards Mutsu and she nodded. Once the door had hissed shut behind him, Mutsu barred Sakamoto's vision by standing directly in front of him. He had no choice but to make eye contact.  
“That goes for you, too. Yer tired as well. We've got two days till the transaction. Get yer sleep in now: it'll be a long fight.” Sakamoto chuckled.  
“Yes ma'am.”

* * *

 

  
_Things are still swinging, like I'm on a boat crossing tormented seas. I keep lurching, rolling. Where's my balance? I can't hold onto a single thought. Each time I fade back into consciousness, I know that I'm in trouble. Next time I might not wake up. This is bad. Really bad. And then I'm gone again, and so are my thoughts. I'm dreaming emptiness until the ceiling comes back into view._

* * *

 

  
“You can get fucked.” Hijikata growled low in his throat under the shadow Takasugi's figure cast down. Unfazed, the man put the kiseru to his lips once more.  
“It's a get out of jail free card.” He said, smoke lining his words. “The only one you're going to get. Be smart, vice-commander.”  
“Get. Fu-”  
“For your information, there's nothing you can lose from this. No catch. I set you free if you help me take down Adachi, which I'm sure would also be beneficial to the shinsengumi.”  
“So would taking your head.” Takasugi chuckled lowly. “You're not getting anything out of me. Try it with that ex-terrorist idiot friend of yours.”  
“He's not in any position to be fighting. To be honest, he's useless to me at the minute.” Hijikata felt his stomach become heavier, sinking. He couldn't keep his expression relaxed.  
“... Why?”  
“Why?” Takasugi cocked his head. “He's that high under fever that he can't keep his eyes open.”  
“!” Hijikata slammed his hands against the bars. “What have you done to him?! You're sick! You-!”  
“I hadn't realised you two were so close.” He sneered, but the teasing had evaporated from his smile. “But clearly not close enough to notice the festering wound on his wrist?” An idea sprang to his mind. “Instead of leaving him to rot down there … won't you lend me a hand, vice-commander?”


End file.
